#whumpee thinks caretaker is new master

[justbreakonme]

Whumpee liked many things about Caretaker.

They had a soft, kind voice, with soft kind hands, and even softer, kinder eyes.

They laughed a lot, and made him laugh too, and didn’t seem to notice when he laughed too long or too loudly or too gracelessly.

They gave him food, nice things, and clothes that fit, and a bed (a real bed, just for them!), but… There was one thing in particular that Whumpee liked the most.

See, Whumpee had never needed to be broken. They’d never dare intentionally step out of line, not even in their wildest dreams or most terrifying nightmares. But, they were flawed. Deeply. And made many mistakes.

But, where Whumper had attributed those mistakes to malice, Caretaker merely corrected him, forgave him, helped him.

He remembered fondly (oh how strange to remember anything fondly) the day Caretaker first brought him home. He had tripped over the edge of the welcome mat, and fell hard, knocking the coat rack down with him.

He had been braced for blows, or at best the yelling and screaming that always reduced him to tears, but, instead, Caretaker had crouched down and asked if he was okay. He had stared, blankly (stupidly), at them, covered in coats and scarves, until Caretaker had moved to help him. He’d flinched, and Caretaker still hadn’t struck him. Instead, they offered a hand, and helped him up.

Caretaker smiled, awkward and toothy and more beautiful than anything he’d ever seen, and apologized, (apologized, to him, of all things!) making a little joke about how welcome mat wasn’t very welcoming.

Whumpee had stared for a moment more, still braced for this all to be a trick. Then, it was like something inside him broke, like a rubber band snapping, and he laughed. He’d laughed, hysterical and ugly, till tears came to his eyes, and then couldn’t stop them.

He’d begged through tears that he was sorry, that he was trying to be good (an old habit that had still never died, despite having every reason to), but Caretaker still didn’t raise a hand against him.

He didn’t remember all the details, after that, only that Caretaker had brought him into the kitchen, and given him a mug of something warm and sweet, and sat down across from him. And had let him cry, only interrupting to assure him that he was not in trouble and to hand him a tissue.

Yes, Whumpee liked many things about Caretaker. Their heart most of all.

[honeycollectswhump]

Whumper's title

[masterlist]

It was the end of a lazy evening. Caretaker stretched as the credits of the last movie rolled. Whumpee was draped across her lap and had apparently fallen asleep somewhere during the movie. She wasn’t sure if he even witnessed the climax. Even asleep Whumpee had a soft smile on his lips; he seemed truly at peace. 

It hadn’t always been like that.

A year ago, serenity like this would have been unthinkable. Maybe he would have crawled into her lap if she ordered him to, but he wouldn’t have allowed himself to relax. He wouldn’t have been able to.

A year ago, he still called himself Pet or Mutt. He would beg for punishment, beg to be allowed necessities like sleep or food. But never for mercy because he’d thought he didn’t deserve it. 

A year ago, Whumpee didn’t even remember they lived together for years prior. 

But he did now, and that was all that mattered. God, how she had missed him and the time they spent together. Caretaker wanted to savor it all, savor every little moment she could spend with him.

With a smile playing on her lips, she brushed a stray piece of hair from his scarred face. She didn’t want to wake Whumpee up but she would have to. No matter how much she wanted it, they couldn’t spend the night like this. In the morning, his already aching back would trouble him even more. He was frankly too big for her couch, his feet already dangling over the side. With one hand she was playing with his soft curls, scratching the nape of his neck, and trying to grab the remote with the other – without success.

It had to be done. Caretaker softly whispered his name, tracing his jawline in an attempt to wake him up. He wouldn't budge.

“Whumpee”, the name came out as a soft chuckle. “Whumpee, you need to wake up.”

Again, nothing. 

This time she held him by his shoulders and started shaking him gently. Two bleary brown eyes stared up at her, blinking a couple of times. A sleepy groan escaped his lips as he struggled to sit upright. Somehow Caretaker doubted that Whumpee was truly awake.

She stood up and held her hand out to him. “Let’s get you to bed, big guy.”

Loosely, he took her hands and let himself be pulled up, almost immediately resting his head on top of hers. 

“Yes, Master”, he breathed into her hair. 

Caretaker could feel her blood running cold. She froze, waiting for any indication of what happened, any sign that Whumpee wasn’t feeling well. 

But he didn’t. He didn’t tense up or start shaking. He didn’t fall on his knees or stare at her in adoration and obedience or wait for her order. In fact, he didn’t seem to even realize what he’d said. Instead, he just nuzzled further into her locks, almost falling asleep on his feet. 

Slowly, she took a step backward, his hands still in hers, waiting to see if he’d follow. Whumpee shuffled along, although at a snail’s pace. Caretaker didn’t know whether to bring up what had happened but one look in his half-lidded eyes told her that any attempt at communication would just pass by him. Chances were he wouldn’t even remember how he got to bed in the morning. 

She took him upstairs where –at the sight of his own bed– he staggered forward and flopped down on his messy sheets. Caretaker followed him inside to tuck him in. While she was securing the blanket under his shoulders, Whumpee loosely grabbed one of her hands in his much bigger one and pressed it to his cheek. 

“G’night…”, he murmured into her hand. 

She couldn’t understand what he said after that and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

This is very much inspired by this post by @whumpadventureprompts (i couldn't find how you want to be tagged when people use your prompts so i hope this is alright)

[befuddled-calico-whump]

"please... Mercy."

(a follow up to this) ///// (continued here)

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Unintentional 26

Previous—Masterlist— Next

CW: BBU-adjacent, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization. Explicit language. Past surgical/medical whump alluded to, hospital setting. OCD, panic attack, Caretaker struggling. Impending raid/threat of Whumpee's (re)capture. As always, beta-read by @alittlewhump <3

Leo’s head ached, exhaustion weighing him down and diluting his expressions so that every time he tried to give Aiden a reassuring smile, the kid just looked more worried. Leo was bone tired. They both were. Delia had only told them one result of the MRI scan: there was no tracker, not even one that had been fried by the machine. So, in that respect, they were in the clear. She’d go over the rest later. Aiden was already shaking without an onslaught of information, tremors radiating through him, his gaze weary and unfocused. 

For the better part of the last hour, Leo had been sitting in one of the unforgiving chairs beside the bed, trying to coax Aiden to relax. Reassuring him everything was alright, asking if he needed anything else, blundering around just shy of making the outright suggestion. Hell, at this point, Leo was ready to admit it was just so that he could rest himself without feeling guilty. Fifteen minutes and he’d feel better. They both would. 

The day before, he’d torn up a whole first floor of scratched laminate and demoed a fireplace. His partner had noticed the push and asked him if everything was alright. He’d said he wasn’t sure, which now felt laughable. And like it had happened a full week ago. 

Leo had finally given in and let his eyes fall closed for a moment when the announcement came over the PA. Code Indigo. All floors. Code Indigo. Aiden clapped his free hand over his ear. 

“Code Indigo?” Leo repeated, fresh adrenaline pulling him to his feet. He tightened his grip on Aiden’s hand. “But you said—”

“It’s rare but it does happen,” Delia said, typing furiously into her phone without looking up. 

Leo wanted to knock it out of her hands. They needed her right now. Aiden's shoulders had crept up to his ears and his grip on Leo’s fingers was shaky. 

“But how did they find out? You don’t think—”

Delia finally put her phone back into her pocket and met his eyes. “They don’t know anything about him. It’s just a random raid.” 

A strangled sound came from Aiden and he pulled his hand out of Leo’s. He would have slipped out of the bed too but Delia was faster. 

“Easy, it’s going to be alright. We’re going to make a plan.” 

Aiden turned to Leo, eyes wide and shining with tears. His bottom lip trembled along with the rest of him. 

This poor kid had trusted him and now, in bringing him here to save his life, Leo might have just done the opposite. What if it would have been better to just let Aiden die on his own terms? Leo would never forgive himself.

He tried to swallow some of the panic and guilt climbing hand over fist up his throat. “Can’t we just make a run for the car?” 

His sister shook her head. “They cover the exits and parking lots before they even make the announcement. That’s the fastest way to get caught.”

Aiden covered his face with his hands, shaking his head. “Nnn-no…no…no…nnno.”

“Sweetheart—”

“Nnn—please—” He caught Leo’s sleeves in his shaking fists. “Please…mmm’I….can’t….mmm…I….can’t….mmm…” He pinched his eyes closed, freeing some tears, and swallowed in a way that made Leo want to ask if his throat was hurting. When he opened his eyes again, they shone with tears. “Please.”

Fuck, as if Leo didn’t feel guilty enough already. “I’m right here. I won’t leave your side, I promise. We’re going to get through this. Delia’s going to help us and—”

Aiden turned to her instead, releasing Leo. Apparently, reassurance was not what he was after.  “Mmm…please…mmm…I…can’t…mmm…can’t…mmm…” He gave up trying to find the word and held up his arm, hooking his index finger under the bandage to show her the rectangular scar on his wrist.

“Yes, I saw.” She lowered his hand for him, smoothing back the edge of the bandage. “Aiden, running away from your previous master means they’ll have your picture on the list of Defectors.” 

Previous master. Meaning he was the current one. Leo’s stomach churned. “Delia, if they have his picture—”

“Nnno,” Aiden interrupted. He raised his arm again. “Nnn-not…mmm’me.”

Delia narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t do this to yourself…when you ran away?” 

He shook his head vehemently, eyes darting to search Leo’s face for a moment. 

“You’re not saying—I didn’t think—” Delia tented her fingers around her eyes, like blinders, as though suddenly everything was too much. She started shaking her head. “You’ve already—they did this to you?” 

Aiden exhaled a sob, nodding. 

Delia swore under her breath. 

“What?” Leo wrung his hands, leaning to try to see Aiden’s face angled away from him. “What does that mean?” 

Delia blinked at him, clearly distracted by whatever revelation had just passed between them. That he was still not privy to. 

“Hello? We’re definitely running out of time.” It was impossible to see what was going on in the hallway with the curtains drawn around this half of the room. In his mind, it was already teeming with police or WRU agents or both. Any minute, they’d burst into the room and take Aiden away. 

“Right. It’s good news…I think.” She kneaded her forehead with her fingertips. “Aiden, I’m hoping this wasn't some sanctioned WRU program…?” 

He shook his head. 

“How many people knew where you were, what was happening to you?” 

He held up one finger. 

“Okay.” She nodded. “And you didn’t escape on your own?” 

Another no. 

Leo leaned his weight from one foot to the other without taking his eyes off the vague location of the door behind the curtains.

“This is good. Sorry but…how much do you remember?” She was keeping her face carefully neutral. 

Aiden didn’t say anything but Leo could see the muscles in his jaw working as he held Delia’s gaze. 

“And from before?”

Tight nod. 

Delia reached for Aiden's hand and he let her take it. “I’m so sorry, Aiden.” 

His face wasn’t quite visible but Leo could tell he was holding his breath.

“We’re going to get you through this and then we can help.” This wasn’t just textbook bedside sympathy, she had that fire behind her eyes and determination in her voice he’d known his whole life. “It’s really good you told me.”

Leo looked down at his hands, pushing the tip of his thumb into the meat of the other palm. There was a speck of dried blood along the cuticle of his right index finger. Maybe from when Aiden had started bleeding through the bandages earlier, maybe from even earlier and he’d just not washed his hands thoroughly enough. He glanced toward the door again, anxiety twisting in his gut. Maybe he had time to—

“Hey, Leo?” 

Aiden dropped his gaze as soon as Leo looked up. Delia was waiting expectantly.

“Sorry.” He lifted his hand to run through his hair but stopped just shy of making contact and let it fall. 

“You remember the plan we talked about before?”

Aiden was watching him from under his eyelashes. 

He tried to inject a little more confidence into his voice. “Right, yes.”

“Great. Just do everything I told you and you’ll be fine.” Delia patted Aiden on the shoulder before backing away.

“Wait, what?” Leo held up his hands like he could call time out on this whole thing. Seconds ticking away until they were found out. “You’re not staying?”

“I thought that was already clear.” 

Leo shook his head. She couldn’t possibly leave.

“I have other—” Her gaze flicked to Aiden and back. “Other patients who need me.” 

“What?” 

Aiden shrank back, almost imperceptibly, because he’d raised his voice. Shit. 

“We don’t have time for this.” 

He clenched his shaking fingers into fists but then unclenched his right fist when he remembered the blood on his finger. “Wait, but what do we do if someone comes in? What are we supposed to say?” Leo couldn’t even look at Aiden. Did not want to see just how much this was definitely making everything even worse for him. He rubbed at the speck of blood with his other fingertip but it wouldn’t come off. 

“Leo.”

He met her gaze, switched to trying to scrape the blood off with his fingernail. “What about you? What happens if they catch you? I thought this was a once-in-a-blue-moon thing—wait, Delia, is this a fucking felony?” 

At some point, she must have stopped backing toward the door because now she held out her hand, reaching for him. “Leo, just take a breath—”

He dodged her. “I just—I need a minute.” Aiden looked confused at best and rejected at worst. Leo turned away and made a beeline for the bathroom. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

He blinked and was already scrubbing at his fingers, rubbing the soap into his cuticles and under his nails. He wasn’t even counting, just mindlessly washing. 

No, he really needed to not lose his shit right now. 

He couldn’t get stuck in this loop. 

Not. 

Right. 

Now. 

Leo forced his lungs to fill with air, rinsed the soap off. Toweled his hands dry. 

Just one proper hand washing and then he had to go. 

One, two, three, four pumps of soap. 

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three—

“Leo…”

He hadn’t even heard the door open.

Delia stilled both of his hands with one of hers. “How long?”

“What?” Leo let her rinse each of his hands under the water.

“How long have you not been taking your meds?” She turned off the tap and handed him paper towels. 

He couldn’t meet her gaze, focused on absorbing each errant drop of water. “A couple weeks? I’m fine, I managing it.” 

“I’m sure you were but now it’s caught up with you.” The careful tone his sister used revealed just how overly defensive his had been. She took the soggy paper towels out of his hands and dropped them into the bin. “This is a lot and it will continue to be a lot. You need to take care of yourself if you’re going to help him.” 

Leo flexed his fingers, trying not to inspect them too closely. “Yeah, okay. I know.”

“Come on, I really need to go and you’re going to be fine together. This is going to work.” She led him out and handed him the backpack she’d been forward-thinking enough to pack at his condo. “You know what to do. I’ll let you know when it’s all clear.”

As soon as she left, Leo wondered if he should have said a longer goodbye. Just in case. He had no idea what repercussions she’d face if caught, not that he had any better idea about himself. Aiden was the only one that really mattered and they needed to get going on this plan. 

Aiden was watching him, not quite warily but carefully, as he set the backpack beside him on the bed and started pulling out what they’d need. He ignored the compulsion to keep reflexively checking the door, tried to make his movements efficient but not visibly rushed.

“I’m sorry,” he said at the same time Aiden said, “Sorry.” Aiden huffed and dropped his chin. He was still shaking but had his mouth set in a determined line. Delia must have instilled a little more confidence in him about their plan to hide in plain sight. 

It would work. 

It had to work.  

Leo zipped up the half-empty backpack and dropped it beside the chairs. “Hon, you don’t have anything to apologize for. None of that—my reaction—was your fault.” He ran a hand over his hair, sighing. “When we get home, I can exp—”

“Leo?” 

There was so much care in the way Aiden shaped the air, as though the syllables might crack under too much strain. He kept his timbre soft, hesitant about borrowing sounds he didn’t feel he had any right to but in voicing them finding his own version of ‘Leo’.  

No way he could chalk this utterance up to his own imagination. A part of him still couldn’t believe Aiden had actually said it. He resisted the self-indulgent urge to ask the kid to repeat himself just to hear it again, to underline the significance of the moment. Instead, he cleared the lump in his throat and tried to sound casual. “What is it?”

Aiden didn’t react to the fact that Leo hadn’t managed to hide much of the emotion in his voice. He had pulled the sleeve of Leo’s old hoodie into his lap and was running his thumb over the frayed edge of the sleeve. When he raised his eyes, they were brighter than Leo had ever seen them. “Home?” 

“Yeah, home,” he whispered back, not sure how he was able to even find his voice this time.  

Aiden pulled the hoodie on, settling into it like it was a hug. 

Leo couldn’t believe the old thing was so meaningful but he wasn’t about to argue against anything that made Aiden feel safer. Especially considering the threat they were about to face. He held one of his beanies out, almost dropping it when Aiden bowed his head instead of taking it to let Leo put it on for him. 

He couldn’t quite blink all of the tears out of his eyes in time but Aiden kept his head down anyway, busy gathering the extra length of the sleeves into his fists. 

How could this kid not see how much of a hold he had on Leo already? 

When the door opened just a few minutes later, as they pretended to sleep across the room from each other, Leo was glad Aiden had a piece of home—a piece of him—to hold onto. 

No matter what happened next.

Previous—Masterlist— Next

@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @mazeish @whumpy-writings @cracked-porcelain-princess @meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump @painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @skyhawkwolf @haro-whumps @onlybadendings @peachy-panic @fillthedarkvoid @rabass @crystalquartzwhump @dont-touch-my-soup @mylifeisonthebookshelf @hold-him-down @guachipongo @creetchure @leyswhumpdump @aseasonwithclarasblog @catawhumpus @magziemakeswhatever @espresso-depresso-system @pigeonwhumps @batfacedliar-yetagain @whumpinthepot @dustypinetree

[octopus-reactivated]

Title me Miss: Bath time!

Took me really long to write it, but it's done. What can i cay, i'm a slow worker

Also, thank you to @whump-blog for proofreading 💜🦀💜

Tw/cw: Pet whump, Whumpee thinks Caretaker is new Master, multiple(2) Caretakers, mention of starvation, fear of hurt (knife), touch starvation. Let me know if i missed anything

__________

Miss took the last sip of her tea and put the cup down. Juli took this as a sign that the breakfast was over. 

It was one of the best meals he ever had. Food wasn’t like in the facility: completely tasteless or spicy to hurt his freshly cutted mouth. It wasn’t spiked with drugs that made his legs wobble and his head spin. And now, when Juli was sure it wasn’t human food too and when he had a clear task, he felt safe and so … not guilty. Well, maybe a little bit guilty. 

At least, he managed to stop himself from devouring food as soon as it was given to him. It was difficult, but not impossible. He shouldn't complain anyway, not when he was shown so much mercy. 

__________

“I… um…” he stuttered.  Miss looked at him confused. His heart thumped, as he realized he would have to explain why he dared to speak up unprompted.

“I currently don't have any wounds” he admitted “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I was supposed to look presentable and… I'm sorry, so sorry…”

There he was babbling and muttering again. Pathetic. 

“If you wish so Miss…” he took a few shaky breaths to calm himself down, “you could open some yourself?”

As soon as the sentence left his mouth, he realized how stupid idea it was. Who was he to dictate Miss what to do?

But she said she wanted to get his wounds treated. 

“Miss?” He asked in a shaky voice, trying to imagine her grabbing a knife and dragging it on his skin.  Would it be a few cuts on his back? Shallow cut near a vital area, so she could feel him shake in fear, but still try to hold still to show obedience? One long cut going from his back to chest and back to back in a spiral?

He dared to look up. 

Miss looked at him disgusted… no, more than that. Horrified. 

He remembered how she told him earlier that she liked him. This must have changed by now. 

If only he learned to keep his mouth shut and keep his stupid suggestions to himself.

“Juli” Miss said in a sweet voice, the one that people in the movies often used when they were so angry, that they became completely calm.

She crouched to his level and placed a hand on his check. He was so, so terrified, and yet, some of his old training kicked in, and he involuntarily leaned into this comfort, even if it was just an illusion “No one's going to hurt you.” She said, gently tilting his head up, forcing him to look into her face “Not me, not Justin or anyone else”

“No hurt?” he repeated, wide-eyed.

“That’s correct. You’re safe here”

Juli sighted from relief. 

As long as he behaves, he won’t be hurt. 

That meant so much. He will be -somewhat- free of constant pain.

Have you forgotten how frequently you mess up your tasks?- mocked him the voice inside his head -How long will you go without punishment? That is, if you even get to have punishment instead of being abandoned.

He bowed down to show his gratitude. 

“I have to get going now” she took her hand away “I should be back for late dinner”

He didn’t understand why she was saying this to him, why did she feel the need to explain her plans to him, as he could understand or influence human ways. 

__________

“Water should be warm enough. You can get yourself ready,” Sir Justin said. “There is soap and stuff. I’m going to check up on you in a few minutes, but if you have any trouble you can call me”

Like he would dare to call sir, like he had any power to decide when sir came and went.

But he didn’t want to argue. That was a bad idea. A very bad idea. A recipe for getting returned.

Sir looked at him like he waited for an answer, so Juli confirmed that he understood, and then sir left.

There wasn’t much time. The Boy got out of clothes and folded them as nicely as possible, then grinding his teeth, he jumped into a full bathtub.

To his surprise, the water wasn’t ice-cold or even boiling hot. It was warm, yes, but not hot. Why was it warm? Maybe it was supposed to be hotter, but tap water couldn’t get any warmer? Why not boil it on the stove, then? But this could take a lot of time and effort, and he wasn’t worth it. 

Or was it to taunt him? ‘Look at him, he gets to clean himself  in warm water, almost like a human!’ Or was it to show off Miss’s wealth? ‘Actually, I can afford to give a nice bath even to my pets!’ Or maybe it was to give him something nice, so it could be ripped out of him later on, to hurt him and leave miserable.

It wasn’t his place to try to understand human reasons anyway.

 ________

The boy waited for him in the water. Sitting still, head down, back hunched. Justin expected him to start clearing himself, but no point In pointing this out, it would only stress him out more.

‘I thought we could wash your hair first’ he suggested, but the boy must have to consider this more of an order than a suggestion. 

Juli obediently leaned back, as Justin wetted his hair and when he put shampoo on them. He gently rubbed it in, when he noticed that Juli was closing his eyes. At first, he thought it was to not let the soap in, but then realized that the boy leaned into his hand, seemingly unbothered by the fact that it was still covered in bubbles. His breath hitched a little. Justin let him lay like that for a while, rubbing his cheek. Poor thing was visibly touch-starved. And regular-starved too. Justin had no heart to pull his hand away. He felt a sense of responsibility for the boy. 

When Decima first arrived, she had little to no understanding of how upperland culture and society worked. So if someone would tell her that Pets were on every level different from humans – she would probably believe that. It just happened that Justin was first. And now she decided to help one of those poor souls. 

“I’m going to wash the shampoo off,” he said, grabbing the shower’s head. He’ll do everything he can to help Juli heal from his wounds

__________

Taglist:  @kim-poce @whatgoeswhumpinthenight @kween-pinescales @wolfeyedwitch @myst-in-the-mirror @dont-touch-my-soup @obsessedwithegos @cicatrix-energy

[whump-place]

A prompt for you!!

Whumpee after being rescued is scared to death of Caretaker, they just sit on their bed all day, believing they're locked like Whumper always left them locked in their room (though they're not). Caretaker sits with them and caresses their hair saying they care about Whumpee and are never gonna hurt them, but Whumpee is still scared because that's exactly what Whumper used to say after their torture sessions!

Poor Whumpee doesn't know how to act, they're so afraid </3

First of all, thank you so much! You are the first one to actually send me a prompt I hope you like it 😭

ontent: Whumpee thinks Caretaker is their new Whumper, self isolation, fear of punishment, past torture.

"Whumpee?" Someone was knocking at the door, Caretaker spoke, she sounded worried. "Are you there?"

What kind of question was that? Of course they were there, where else would they be? They wouldn't ever dream of escaping, they swear, they were good! They had to let Caretaker know that!

"Yes, ma'am. I'm here, this is where you left me, i didn't move, I promise." That was half true, Caretaker had left them on the bed, blankets covering their body, she had told them to rest and sleep and so they did. But in the morning they made the bed and sat on the edge, they didn't want to be punished for slacking.

"Oh, um. That's good? I guess." A small pause and then Caretaker spoke again. "Can I come in?"

Whumpee shoke their head. They don't want Caretaker near them, they just want to be left alone. But of course they didn't say that out loud, that would be suicidal.

"You can do as you please, ma'am." They answered instead. Their eyes were already tearing up, Whumper never visited them unless it was punishment day, and that hurts so much, please, they'll be good! They can be good, please!

The door slowly opened, Caretaker was right in front of them, holding a glass and an apple.

"Oh." That was all Caretaker said, her eyes wandering around the room, Whumpee made sure that it was spotless, was something wrong? "You...? Nevermind."

Caretaker set the glass and the apple on the nightstand, carefully taking a step back.

"Whumpee... can I speak to you for a second?"

"You can do as you please, ma'am" but please, don't hurt me. Not yet, please.

Caretaker frowned a bit, and Whumpee was sure that they already messed up, but instead of a beating, Caretaker said:

"Thank you"

Whumpee hadn't expected her to actually sit next to them, usually Whumper would 'talk' throwing things at Whumpee, yelling, sometimes they even kicked them, Whumper doesn't sit next to them, never.

"You see, Whumpee. I... Ahg. What am I doing?"

Caretaker didn't say another word, Whumpee realized that she wasn't good at showing her feelings through words, but through actions.

Her hand slowly caresses their hair, not saying a word.

"I know you are scared, but I promise that I will never hurt you. I... I don't really know what could I say to make you feel better, I'm sorry"

Those were really kind words, Whumpee must admit. But there was still something that made him shiver; Whumper used to do the same. Exactly the same.

Kind words, kind touch. Whumper liked to see their pet at his feet or with their head on their lap, begging for a gentle touch just before being...

Whumpee shut their eyes, leaning on the touch, they were so damn afraid.

[cepheusgalaxy]

We all love the "whumpee thinks caretaker is their new master" trope, right? Let's go a little further

Whumpee is whumper's pet. We know this

Whumper also has this friend, Whumper 2

Whumper really wants to impress their friend, or whatever, so they give whumpee to whumper 2

Whumpee is prepared beforehand. Whumper dress them up; They tell them to obey whumper 2. Tell them that they'll be their new master.

While that, Caretaker and Team find this out. Whumpee will be transported from Whumper's to Whumper 2's house

It's the perfect chance for rescuing them.

Ok, now, for the aesthetic, maybe whumpee is in a truck. No windows. No sounds. Whumpee is locked inside during the way, they're only allowed to move or get out once they reach their destiny

The team works fast

They capture the truck and manage to drive it to their base

While that, whumpee is bracing themselves for the terror they know whumper 2 will be.

Imagine the scene when the team unlock whumpee on the truck, and they are obedient, terrifird, they think Caretaker is whumper 2

They do not manage to think they're finally free

[pigeonwhumps]

Touch-starved

MD-264N masterlist

Febuwhump day 1: touchstarved

@febuwhump

MD-264N wakes up.

1.1k

CWs: self-dehumanisation, fear of death, electric shock mention, conditioned whumpee, caretaker new master

MD-264N blinks itself awake. Its systems are not functioning at optimum efficiency but they're close to it, except for its ankle. There's uncomfortable sensation coming from that. But other than that it's much better than before.

Now. Where is it being stored? It has no restraints for… for some reason, and there's a window, so it isn't back at base. How did it get here?

Can it see the sky now?

One thing at a time. What is it wearing? It's far too light. The control harness and mitts are gone, and its clothes are… unusual. They're thick, soft, bright. The weapon looks at its arm, covered in baggy light blue soft fabric. So much brighter than it's allowed.

But it's not at base, so maybe it's what the people here want. That would make sense, right?

Next. This storage room. It's brighter than any at base, walls coloured light blue and pink. There's a wooden cabinet in the corner, a prosthetic forearm lying on it, and a window above the soft cot that MD-264N's on. That's unusual too. The weapon peers out of it as much as it can without moving, just about able to see a grey sky above.

That's its surroundings taken care of then. They don't make sense, but that's what's there. In that case, who brought it here? The last thing it remembers, it was on the street. Why did someone take it and put it in here? What do they want from it? Its hands are free, the only thing that makes sense is they want to use it, but there's no handlers here. This space is too big for the safe storage of weapons anyway.

MD-264N's throat goes tight. What happens if someone finds it out here? It's not safe. It doesn't know if this is what the people who put it here want but surely they want it to be secured safely.

MD-264N's eyes light on the cabinet, and it climbs off the soft cot it's been placed on and starts making its way towards it.

One foot goes on the floor, but when it tries to put its weight on the other foot, its ankle malfunctions and it collapses to the floor.

It attempts to push itself up as it hears footsteps, arms shaking, but it can't move. Aberrant moisture leaks out of the corners of its eyes. These people won't want a faulty weapon. They'll decommission it and then it'll never see the sky again.

The footsteps are very close now. MD-264N tries to kneel instead, desperate to be good enough to see the sky again.

"Hey, sweetheart, what are you doing on the floor? You're supposed to be resting." The voice is soft beside it, and the weapon's not sure who they're talking to. It sounds like they're talking to it but… you don't talk like that to weapons. Gentle, like it's a person. But there's no-one here. "Sit back on the bed, come on. Can you do that for me?"

MD-264N tries, it really does, but it can't move its leg. "This weapon is malfunctioning, sir, it– please." Please, please don't have it decommissioned, not yet.

"Okay. It's okay, sweetheart, I'll help you. I'm going to have to touch you, is that alright?"

"Yes, sir."

"Thank you." The speaker wraps an arm around it and helps it sit down on the cot. The arm is warm and the hand ungloved, and the weapon finds itself leaning into their touch. It stiffens. No, no that's bad, weapons don't need touch. "Hey, you don't need to move away. I bet you're touch-starved, huh?" MD-264N doesn't answer. It doesn't know how. "You don't need to… y'know, act all subservient. You can look at me. And you don't have to address me as sir, Rhian will do. Since it's my name. Do you have one?"

"This weapon has been designated MD-264N," answers the weapon automatically, "designed and programmed for urban use by the Ministry of Defence. Its capabilities are–"

"That's your designation, sweetheart, not your name. I guess that means you don't have one then. Would it be alright if I give you one?"

Why are they asking all these questions? Surely they know it can't refuse anyway.

"Yes, s– Rhian."

"Great! So I was thinking of Morgan, if you like it?"

"Yes, Rhian."

"That's good. You can look at me, sweetheart, you don't have to look at the floor. Why won't you look up?"

MD-264N (no, Morgan, it'd better start using the name its new commander wants) shivers. "This weapon is malfunctioning."

"What do you mean?"

Morgan swallows, preparing to give the information that might get it decommissioned. "Its left ankle is not functioning, and there is aberrant moisture leaking from its eyes. And it keeps having aberrant thoughts."

There's a short pause. "So… you're in pain, you're crying and you're probably scared? You're in a strange place with people you've never met, after being shot in the ankle, I'd be surprised if something wasn't wrong, frankly. I'll get Asha to bring you some more painkillers. It's okay to feel like this, sweetheart, it doesn't mean you can't look at me, or that I don't want to see you. Please, Morgan?"

Morgan can't refuse that, and it raises its head, not making eye contact but looking all the same. Rhian's hair is white dipped in red, and they smile at the weapon, mouth dimpling at the corners.

"There you are. Nice to meet you."

They're so soft, their hand warm on its arm, saying things that don't make sense, not for a weapon, but they're so nice. More moisture leaks from the weapon's eyes at the gentleness. Nobody's ever been this gentle with it.

"Hey, it's okay. Do you want a hug?"

A hug? But it– it's never, no-one's ever– it's just a weapon, why would anyone offer? Morgan nods anyway, and Rhian wraps their arm around it, holding it tight and warm. They don't seem bothered about touching it, like its handlers are, and their fingers almost burn through the fabric of the hoodie. It doesn't remember the last time anyone touched it without gloves.

Its eyes leak even more and it finds itself making sounds along with that, sounds that it would surely be shocked for with anyone else. But Rhian just shushes it gently, and it can't help leaning into their touch.

Of all the people it's met, Rhian is by far the most patient, and it can't help the aberrant and likely futile hope that the gentleness lasts.

[starfields08000]

Hi so.. I've finished all the whump stories im reading right now and I'm looking for stories where whumpee thinks caretaker is Thier new master/ whumper

Send me ur favourites pls (they don't have 2 b ur ocs)!

[whumpingandsmilinglikeanidiot]

Whumpee thinks Caretaker is their new master. Good trope, right? But check this out;

Caretaker doesn't notice.

Because the morning after the day they were rescued, all Whumpee did was get Caretaker a cup of coffee. It was only after then that Whumpee realized new master new rules, and Caretaker might not like coffee at all. So after an hour or so of a panic attack, Whumpee decides to stay put and not do anything.

But Caretaker didn't say anything about that coffee, so Whumpee should probably keep doing that?

And so, every morning, Caretaker gets a cup of coffee, says thank you, that's a nice gesture, and gets done with the day, while Whumpee tries to stay as quiet and unnoticed as possible. Not angering Caretaker is their top priority. Caretaker notices Whumpee is really, really quiet, but hey, they might just like it quiet. They do seem a little scared, but they've been putting off well, so Caretaker is positive that they'll get better with time.

Then Caretaker hears Whumper liked a cup of coffee every morning.

That's.. a strange coincidence.

I hope that's a coincidence.

And they finally try to talk to Whumpee about it, and Whumpee breaks into tears and Caretaker realizes what a mess this is,

[justbreakonme]

Guilty as charged.

[honeycollectswhump]

The Pet 2

[masterlist] [part one]

From his view of the ever-distorting ground, he couldn’t see his Master’s reaction, couldn’t anticipate the blow or kick that would surely come. The pleading had felt wrong on the Pet’s tongue, for a reason he couldn't figure out. 

For a few agonizing seconds nothing happened. The only sound that reached the Pet’s ears was his own labored breathing and even that sounded warped.

“What?”

Finally, a voice, though he couldn't recognize it. It must have been his Master’s, right? It simply must.

The Pet knew how to behave. He shouldn't have run away in the first place –he couldn’t even remember why he had tried anymore– but he would be better. He needed to be better. So he stayed perfectly still, waiting for any clue of how to act so he could be prepared for his Master’s rage. 

Would his Master discipline his disobedient Pet now or later? Would it be his Master’s thick belt, that he used to taunt him with, and then punished him with even more harshly for getting his disgusting blood all over it? Maybe he’d be used as entertainment for the party –the party?– and or he’d be strung up like a punching bag. The thought alone made the Pet shake twice as hard. 

Too late, far too late the Pet perceived murmuring, draping over him like a blanket, drowning out all other sounds. His Master must have been talking and like a stupid mutt he hadn’t paid attention. Instead, he had gotten lost in his own head, he had let himself get carried away by the current of his own thoughts.

Mercifully, his Master repeated himself. Still, only scraps reached his mind, the rest being devoured by the cotton that filled the Pet’s senses. 

“Hey…”

“It’s just me…”

“... don't understand…”

“Please, sit up.”

Yes! At last, something the Pet could act upon, something to prove he was eager to obey, despite his shortcomings, despite everything. He carefully pushed his upper body up, still on his knees and eyes on the floor like a proper Pet. Just this small movement alone made his stomach lurch and his arms shake like leaves in the wind.

He stared at his tingling fingers and hoped he was kneeling right, hoped that he wasn’t slouching with the way his spine felt curved, the way his legs were slowly sinking into the floor like it was quicksand. 

Cautiously, gentle fingers touched his jawline and tipped his head upwards. The Pet let his eyes be guided to catch the form of his Master and hoped he wouldn’t be punished for this offense too. 

“You will be alright,” the voice said slowly, deliberately. A spark of familiarity washed over the Pet, even though he couldn’t place it. He could barely see more than blurred shapes but if the Pet concentrated hard enough, he could make out some of their features. A name fought itself through the swamp of his own thoughts: Caretaker.

“I’m–I’m sorry. Are you my…my Master?” he whispered, then flinched back, expecting a hit for his boldness. His tongue felt swollen and limp in his mouth and he could do nothing but hope he was saying the words he meant. 

He was met with confusion. “I’m not–I mean, you don’t have a Master.”

That couldn’t be! The thought alone sent cold spikes of fear down his spine.

“Please Ma’am, I do have a Master. I’m sorry, but I must have, I’m positive. I–I don’t mean to disagree, Ma’am, please. B–but I’m lost, I don’t know where I am. My Master must be around here somewhere. I don’t– I don’t know what to do!” The words tumbled out of his mouth and onto the floor like marbles. In the end, the last bit of resolve left him and the Pet dissolved into sobs

“Whumpee–” The hands that had rested on his jawline now moved to cup his cheeks. “What happened? I don't… whatever. You are safe, I promise. If you are lost, I’ll help you get home, alright?”

He looked at her hopefully. Alone, he wouldn’t get anywhere, at least not in this state. But with her help…maybe he wouldn’t be thrown out today.  

The Pet threw himself down once more, inching closer till his bowed head almost touched her knees. 

“Please, Ma’am! If you would be so kind, so generous as to help this worthless excuse of a Pet. I’m so sorry, I don’t–I don’t know how to repay you but I’d do anything. Anything! I promise, Ma’am!”

“Always. I’ll always help you.” the Pet felt a soft hand on his head, carding gently through his hair. In his despair, he couldn’t help but push into the touch. The Pet couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched him this way. Any kindness was a rarity. Even like this, with his brain a thick swamp, unable to produce fully formed thoughts, the Pet knew this fact. It was deeply ingrained in his heart.

“But you need to listen to me. My car is parked nearby but we have to get there first. And we can’t have the others see you like this. So you need to do exactly as I tell you, alright?” 

Even though he had to strain himself to comprehend the words, the Pet nodded with such vigor his head might have fallen off. It made him even more dizzy. 

“Whumpee, look at me. This is important.”

Although the Pet didn’t know who that was, he would listen regardless.

“When we go out that door, I need you to walk upright. I’ll hold you up, that won’t be a problem. But no crawling! Also, no talk of your Master or whoever the fuck that is. If you have questions ask them now or when we are in my car.”

The Pet didn’t understand. But it wasn’t his job to ask questions –it wasn’t his job to think– so he kept quiet. His only purpose was obeying. 

He pushed upwards, trying to get his legs under him and balanced on the skewed ground, already veering to the side. Before he could tumble down, Caretaker caught his arm. His stomach churned dangerously and his ears rang. A cold sheen of sweat was sticking to his skin, making him shiver and he swallowed thickly. The tears had barely stopped but the Pet felt like crying again. It was no use.

“Come on, big guy.” Caretaker said as she pulled him towards a wall. “Lean against that, then try again.”

He did try again, desperately ignoring the way the wall seemed to bend around him, the texture swirling and swirling and swirling. Despite everything, the Pet couldn’t stop a hysterical giggle from breaking free. It just made Caretaker sigh. 

Finally though, he was able to stand, albeit listing heavily against the wall. Caretaker had slipped against his side, bracing his bigger frame against hers, holding up most of his weight. God, it felt like his worst sin was open for the world to see. No amount of slouching could make him smaller than her. A Pet couldn’t look down on a human. 

His first disobedience was his own body. 

She approached the door with the Pet in tow. He vowed to keep his stupid mouth shut since Caretaker didn’t like it when he talked. The walk was a blur, his surroundings distorting and tilting. His feet never landed where he wanted them to, making him stumble against her more than once. 

Time seemed to move weirdly around him, both too fast and too slow. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, whether he spent hours in that dark room or just seconds. 

People came up to them, shouting over a thundering the Pet couldn’t identify, but Caretaker pushed through them. 

The Pet blinked and suddenly found himself outside, the cool night air lifting the fog that had settled over his senses. Only now he realized that he had rested his heavy head on Caretaker’s shoulder.

It felt comfortable. It felt safe.

It felt familiar.

again, thanks to @distinctlywhumpthing for beta-reading this and putting up with my lack of knowledge on where to put commas in english <3

[whumpshaped]

I know it's cliche, but hear me out. The Whumpee thinks Caretaker is their new master trope, just that Caretaker is trying to give Whumpee a bath, and Whumpee used to be punished being drowned or something like that, so they beg Caretaker that they'll be good, that they'll behave, etc.

tw past trauma, caretaker new master, conditioned whumpee

“No! No, please, Master, I’m sorry!”

“What’s gotten into you?” Caretaker stared down at the poor thing in front of them hugging their legs like there was no tomorrow. “Whumpee–”

“I’ll be good! I’ll behave! I don’t know what I did, Master, I’m sorry! I’m sorry for being so stupid that I didn’t even realise I was being bad! I’m so sorry!”

“Whumpee, I’m just trying to give you an opportunity to wash up–”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry–”

Caretaker sighed. Alright, they just had to pet their hair and wait it out.

“Hey, Whumpee…” they tried again once the pet had quieted down a little. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yes, Master,” they sniffled. They didn’t sound very okay, but it was a start. “I’m s-sorry.”

“Why do you think you did something wrong, honey?”

“I– I must’ve, I must’ve! I know I did something, if you want t-to– to ‘give me a bath’, I– please, please d-don’t, I’m so sorry…”

Caretaker frowned. “What do you think a bath means?”

Whumpee looked up at them with those wide, tear-filled eyes, so terrified that Caretaker could barely stand it. “D-drowning, Master. Please, I, I know I must deserve it, but please, punish me any other way! I can’t do it again, I can’t, please…”

Oh, that sick bastard.

“Shh, sweetie… It’s okay…” They tried to unwrap Whumpee’s arms from around their legs so they could help them stand up, but eventually they just settled for getting on the floor with them. They pulled Whumpee into a tight hug, rubbing their back as they continued to cry. “I didn’t mean it like that… I’m never gonna hurt you like that, yeah? Ever.”

“Y-you’re… not?”

“No, of course not. Of course not. I promised you’d be safe here, and I meant it. Let’s just calm down.”

[distinctlywhumpthing]

Unintentional 25

Previous—Masterlist— Next

CW: BBU-adjacent, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization. Explicit language. Past surgical/medical whump alluded to, hospital setting. As always, beta-read by @alittlewhump &lt;3

Found. 

Found. 

He didn’t know what he was supposed to do with ‘found’. 

It wasn’t good or bad or safe or pain or any of the others that WRU had made so bright and shiny and accessible they were practically glued to his hands. Even when he went deeper, spiraling down into the shadowy, muddled places he cared not to linger in, there was no space for it anywhere. 

Found.

It didn’t matter anyway. All that mattered was what it meant to Leo. 

And he had absolutely no fucking clue. 

“Aiden, I found you,” Leo repeated, like he was able to see exactly how long it was taking Aiden to glean any meaning from the phrase.

His head was hurting, even with all the drugs he’d agreed to. That had to be a bad sign, a sign that they’d lied and the drugs were doing something else since they certainly weren’t eradicating all of his pain. He made sure his grip hadn’t changed around Leo’s hands. Leo’s hands holding his. Like maybe they were all that was holding him together. 

Leo was almost smiling, his eyes still full of emotion. A few tears had fallen just moments ago before he’d made an apology exactly like the one Aiden should have made and couldn’t make. Leo’s eyebrows were still raised because he was expecting this to mean something but Aiden wasn’t clever enough to figure it out. More tests that Harrison designed him to fail. 

He nodded once, holding his breath, hoping to hell that Leo would give him some indication that it was the correct response or at least one that would earn him more explanation. 

Leo tilted his head a fraction of a centimeter to the left and took a breath but the exhale was shorter than the inhale, more audible. 

Fuck. 

Aiden flinched when Leo reached for his shoulder. “M’sorry,” he mumbled.

“You’re good.” Leo rubbed his thumb in circles over the starchy fabric of the hospital gown. 

He wanted to cry. He wasn’t good. None of this could be leading anywhere good.

Leo leaned forward, for some reason undeterred from driving at this point. “Aiden, the day we met. When you woke up in the back of my van, remember?”

Yes, he remembered. A promising first impression.

“That morning, I stopped to get coffee on my way to work and I found you—”

Found whatever lies Harrison had written, raising his hopes so they’d have even further to fall.

“I found you, unconscious in a snowbank off the parking lot—”

No…

“I-I thought you were homeless. I was going to give you my coffee but when I saw you—” Leo reached for his cheek and this time Aiden was too stunned to flinch. “—I just, I didn’t think twice, I wanted to help you, to keep you safe.”

None of this made any sense. Why would he make something like this up? What was the point? 

Leo let out a breath, like a sigh. Was he relieved? 

He was looking at Aiden expectantly again and Aiden wanted to scream. 

Why couldn’t Leo just give him the answer?

“I didn’t even realize that you were a—” Aiden was left to hang in the full shame of what he was, what he had been reduced to. “—Companion. I just wanted to help. I’m sorry I fucked it up, not seeing what was right in front of me, not helping you as well as I could have.” 

There really wasn’t any point in trying to understand the purpose of this fresh test. 

Christ, it was convoluted and he was way too damaged to ever hope to follow. 

His throat ached from holding back sobs.

Nothing he could do would make anything better. 

Worse might be possible, but at this point, did it really even matter? 

“What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t—Aiden, are you with me, sweetheart?” 

His gaze had shifted off Leo’s face to stare, unfocused, at the light of the MRI machine coming through the window. 

Leo searched each of his eyes, one and then the other, to make sure he was paying attention now. 

He burned under the valuation. 

“Aiden, I didn’t buy you, I—”

“Stop.” He stood, the chair rolling away behind him. 

Did he just say that out loud? 

He staggered back, away from Leo and in search of his balance. 

It was all too much, all of this was too much.

“Aiden?” Leo rose to follow him slowly, hands at his sides. Always so careful and calculating. 

“Nnn—please,” he sobbed. 

“Easy, it’s okay—” 

He shook his head, pressing the heels of his palms into his temples.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Leo said quickly. He reached his hand out. “I didn’t mean—I only wanted—”

“Don’t!” Louder than he’d intended, clearer than he thought he was capable of. “Nnn…please,” he added too late. Leo’s face had already fallen, just for a moment before he’d returned to looking concerned.

“Don’t…come near you?” 

Nothing could have been worse. Aiden let himself crumple to the ground, arms coming up around his head as he tried to fold away. To sink into the grave he’d dug for himself hand over fist.

“Oh, sweetheart…”

Aiden shook his head, sobbing. Everything ached. “Nnn—please…nnno…don’t…nnn…lie—” 

After a while, he wondered if maybe he hadn’t said it out loud. Or Leo hadn’t heard his whisper. Or was pretending he hadn’t heard. He tried to quiet his crying to hear. Maybe Leo had left and now, finally—

“I’m going to come sit by you, okay?”

He didn’t move or object so Leo crossed the room and sat beside him. Aiden peeked out to see him dragging a hand over his face, elbows on his knees. 

“There’s probably a dozen better ways I could’ve explained that. Delia told me to wait, she was probably right—she’s always right. I’m sorry.” He sighed, glancing over and caught Aiden watching him. He smiled that half-smile, the one that made a few lines appear by his eyes, the one that looked so kind. “Hi, hon.”

He flushed, despite himself, despite everything, and was so glad his face was covered. Leo’s smile faded and in another well-trained reaction Aiden feared he was disappointed. He almost reached for one of the practiced responses, out of habit, to try to salvage the exchange. 

“I’d never lie to you, Aiden. I know there’s nothing to make you believe that’s not just another lie but I have no reason to lie to you, sweetheart.” 

Aiden couldn’t see the reason either. Unless it were just for sport, which would mean Leo was exactly like Harrison, and Aiden couldn’t face that at all. 

He lifted his head, resting his chin on his knees. His arms were starting to throb from holding his legs up to his chest.

Leo smiled again, same smile as always. 

Same as the time he’d torn open a bag of mini marshmallows in the parking lot, sending them skittering all over the slush, trying to bribe Aiden out from under his van. Same as when he saw Aiden waiting for him downstairs every morning. Same as when he came home every day. 

His heart hammered in his chest. It didn’t seem possible that he could be interpreting all of this right. That any of this was right for him. There was one way to tell. He was pretty sure he’d said it before, correctly, even though he hadn’t really meant to. He’d always been too afraid to practice. The name had never felt like it belonged to him to say. 

The sounds were all there, like they wanted to be spoken. He took a breath—

“Leo?” 

Aiden jumped and Leo put a hand on his back. “It’s just Delia.” 

“Hey, checking in. We can head back now.” 

They each took a side and lifted helped Aiden to his feet. Delia’s name tag clicked against her stethoscope as she leaned down to help Leo. He couldn’t read her name, of course, but there she was in the photo, a wry smile on her lips. He wondered if she had been instructed to look serious but couldn’t keep a straight face or if the security guard in charge of pictures had a sense of humor. 

This was definitely not a place for people like him.

This was a real hospital. 

Delia was a real doctor.

If Leo didn’t have any papers or a contract for him, they really weren’t anywhere remotely related to WRU.

All of that sneaking around had been real. 

What exactly were Leo and Delia risking by bringing him here?

“Sweetheart?” Leo’s hand on his cheek made him gasp. 

He looked between their faces. Apparently, they’d meant for him to be paying attention.

Leo caught onto his panic. “Hey, it’s okay.” He moved his hand down to rest on Aiden’s shoulder. “We’ll head back now. You don’t need to do the scan, okay? It wasn’t fair of me to expect that of you. You can rest a bit more until it’s okay for us to go home. Sound good?”

His head nodded automatically. Leo kept one arm around him as they turned toward the door. 

He planted his feet. 

Leo stopped guiding him. “Aiden?”

He just wanted—he couldn’t— He flapped a hand. What the fuck was that going to convey? He used it to cover his face instead, shaking his head. “Mmm’sorry…m’sorry…” 

“It’s okay, take your time. We still have time,” Delia said. 

The silence swelled as they waited for him, waited on him.

Leo and Delia exchanged a glance that made him want to evaporate. They were confused and he couldn’t fucking articulate a single goddamn thought in his head. This was not going to work or end well. He couldn’t do this. 

He kneaded his brow, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Does it hurt, hon?” Leo rubbed his shoulder. 

Aiden shook his head and tried to swallow the knot of frustration building in his throat. “Mmm…I…I…”

Leo considered him patiently, with that concerned crease appearing right between his brows. 

Aiden couldn’t decide if it made him want to fall into his arms or at his feet. 

He should just be cooperative and go back. 

But maybe it wasn’t only selfish. Leo deserved to know. Even if he was pretending it didn’t matter how damaged Aiden was. Not to mention whatever that meant if Leo hadn’t even wanted a companion in the first place.

Now, he’d done it. Tears started running down his cheeks. He swiped at them with the back of his unbandaged hand but they kept coming. He groaned and it just sounded like a sob. 

“Aiden, honey. Whatever it is, it’s okay.” 

He wondered erratically if he might actually respond better to having it beat out of him. If all of this kindness and patience and consideration was what made him flounder. How could Leo still be so patient with him after the tantrum he’d thrown earlier?

“I…mmm…mmm…” Forget about want, need, have to. It was like Harrison had reached in and removed specific words from his head. Which was exactly the reason why this was so important. He pointed at the black monitors lined up under the window, cringing at how debasing the monkey-gesturing was. “…please?”

“You—you want to do the scan?” 

Something released inside of him, letting free a sob too. He nodded, wiping his face again. 

Leo’s brow furrowed even more. “I’m sorry, I should have asked. I didn’t think—”

He shook his head quickly, now crying in earnest. This was a mistake. He shouldn’t have done or said anything to make Leo—

“Alright, okay. Hey, Aiden, hey.” Leo moved closer, squeezing both his shoulders. “It’s okay. If this is what you want, we’ll make it happen.” 

He sniffled and nodded. He wanted to sink into the floor for making so much trouble. For the way it was making him feel to have Leo gently thumbing the tears off his face and acting like everything really was going to be okay.

Previous—Masterlist— Next

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[abhainnwhump]

So we all know the "Whumpee thinks Caretaker is their new master" trope, right? (my favorite version of this is when Caretaker is incredibly insecure and socially awkward and is just like "guys help") Anyways, instead of Caretaker coaxing these behaviors out of Whumpee, they take advantage of it. Caretaker never liked Whumpee before their kidnapping. Too loud, too annoying, too . . . everything. So once they get them back and they've been conditioned to be a perfect silent servant, they thought 'Well, it wouldn't hurt if I gave in for a while'.

Caretaker turned Whumpee into their personal servant and prevents them from healing. They have them do all the house chores, cooking, and cleaning. In exchange, they tell Whumpee 'good job', but most of the time they ignore them. That doesn't matter to Whumpee, it's more kindness then what Whumper gave them.

Whumpee is so used to be treated like a slave they don't question it. It isn't until Caretaker 2 or Whumper comes in does Whumpee realize something is off.

Bonus points if Caretaker was an abusive partner or friend before the whumpening.

[redd956]

(@urlocalwhumper)

hey dawg thanks for feeding us living weapon whumpee enjoyers

i know that generally the vibe for living weapon whumpees is like the stoic "unfeeling" supersoldier type, but how are we feelin about living weapon whumpees that are like. off the shits feral.

more of an attack dog than a super soldier, weapons of mass destruction built into them cybernetically, because their masters aren't looking for efficiency, they're looking to send a message. for everyone around to know that if you don't bow to their rule, they'll send their monster to destroy you and everything you hold dear.

(and ofc the "monster" themself is kept in a constant state of suffering so they're always agitated and the pain clouds their mind too much to question what they're doing and why)

I love the way you think!

I never really thought of that character trope as a living weapon, but you aren't lying, it would count. (My brother and I's ocs would count then Ig) Also ties into monster whumpees :D

Here's some ideas I bounced off of this

Guard Dog Whumpee

CW: Pet Whump Sorta, Classic, the whump community should bring these up more

Whumper having more than one, forcing them to compete with one another. The most brutal earns their medical treatment.

Dangerous whumpees who have to be muzzled and mitted because whumper doesn't have them under control fully. Gentle carewhumpers being able to coerce whumpee into muzzles.

Non-guard dog whumpees equally trapped under whumper's boot being terrified of the guard dog. Sharing space with one is like sleeping on the shore of alligator infested rivers.

Scarred whumpees with dangerous animalistic features bared, backed into a corner with a tail in between their legs. Caretaker is trying their best to appear nonthreatening.

A guard dog whumpee failing its job. It showed no fear to its enemies, but the same cannot be said as they returned home.

Monster Living Weapon Whumpee

Say that three times fast

While rampaging after whumper's enemies whumpee broke the device keeping them confined to whumper. Quickly a symbol of destruction becomes a confused, hurt, and whimpering creature.

Whumpee always thought they were uniquely a monster. Whumper told them so everyday, rewarding them for their monstrousness, telling them they're alone as a creature of evil. Whumpee always thought this until they met caretaker.

Monster whumpees that despite being living weapons show rage in their failures, and pride in their kills. They don't see that whumper's treatment of them is subpar, because they're "partners in crime" of course. Caretaker would never treat whumpee that way if they were their weapon.

Killing Machine

They know what they're capable of, and they don't want to be that

Maybe they wanna do things their way, maybe they're ashamed of being a killing machine. Whumper could care less.

Killing machine in disguise has been living the everyday life, perhaps even an extravagant one. Whumper found them out, and no one has seen whumpee since, until the destruction started.

Killer Machine Villain -> Supervillain meets Villain with the promise to make them more powerful -> Extra Murderous Killer Machine Villain (Unstable)

Robotic whumpee that is just doing what they're told. Whumper was great, whumper was life. Robotic whumpee who sees whumper returning home with the newest model. Whumper who won't stop boasting about how much more efficient and deadly the new one is.