#whumpee turn whumper

[redd956]

Whumpee and Whumper are both brought into the hospital

- Caretaker has no clue of either’s history or relation

- They are both unconscious

-Or maybe they are dead silent and glaring at each other the entire time

-Or cursing and clawing at each other, despite their own wounds

- Neither are giving good or true story

-Injured from the same incident. Did they do this to each other? Did someone do this to both of them? Or was it all a domino toppling accident?

Whumpee wakes first

-Whumpee tries to escape from the hospital

-Whumpee latches onto Whumper

-Whumpee freaks out upon waking, begging, shouting, and crying to be moved to a different room

-Whumpee tries to convince Caretaker to never tell Whumper about; being moved to a different room, telling the truth, being in the same hospital

-Whumpee takes the opportunity to be the New Whumper

Whumper wakes first

- Whumper latches onto Whumpee

- Whumper convinces Caretaker that they are close friends/lovers/family

- Whumper is now frightened of Whumpee, or is too guilty and can’t bare to look their way

- Whumper awakes to find they do not recognize Whumpee or know where they are

-Whumper more calmly asks to be moved to a different room

Both Awake Within Close Times

- They instantly break into a brawl despite injuries, cue Caretaker having to break them up

- Both are too weak to explain their situation or object to each other’s presence

- One takes the chance to degrade the other

- Neither feels safe what so ever

- They both panic at the sight of each other

Extra

- A different Whumper arrives on scene and takes both of them

- A fight breaks out between the two as frequently as possible

- Caretaker equally despises both of them

- Caretaker is completely oblivious, and is genuinely trying to care for the lives of the wounded

- One is in much worse condition than the other

- Both are afraid of hospitals/completely miserable

- As soon as one recovers first it will try to off the other or worse

[valcaira]

Attention Whump Community!

Clogging disability tags is a massive problem that we need to address. Many tags, especially those surrounding permanent injuries, paralysis, vision loss and certain illnesses have become unusable due to being flooded with unrelated things. Yes, that includes your writing. Those tags are not for you. It's isolating, frustrating and depressing to try finding a community and other people who share your issues but all that comes up is whump, fandom shit, gifs, headcanons, etc.

I'm newly paralyzed. I have looked at many tags surrounding paralysis, trying to find support, a community, anything of people struggling with the same thing. Nothing. There's barely anything for us in the general disabilty tags. I am BEGGING you to understand and recognize how AWFUL it is.

So, I have a proposition. A tag you can and should use exclusively for disability content in whump writing. Not any other tag surrounding disability, lest you'll clog it up.

#disabled whumpee

It's tempting to use more specific tags, I get it. Due to being in the whump community myself I know #medical whump is already a tag. You have those tags. Use them. Don't use the disability tags. Don't clog up the few spaces us disabled people have.

[whump-bunny]

Whumper overestimates how much torture Whumpee can take. The once-defiant Whumpee is broken and catatonic, not speaking or reacting to anything anymore. And Whumper isn't happy about it. Though they loathe to admit it, they liked Whumpee's defiance. It was entertaining. Whumpee was entertaining. With them not speaking anymore, Whumper realizes that they miss the sound of Whumpee's voice. The snarky little comments, the sarcastic jokes, the curses screamed in rage.

Now Whumper is desperate to get the old Whumpee back. They're being extra "nice," giving Whumpee medical treatment and food, anything to make them go back to how they were before. Anything to fix their favorite toy.

Because like it or not, Whumper doesn't have anyone else.

[whumped-by-glitter]

Okay, hear me out....

A caretaker with an extremely conditioned whumpee.

Caretaker is forced to "speak their language" to get through to whumpee. Caretaker has to start acting like Whumper to slowly undo the conditioning.

They have to start harsh and strict to slowly teach Whumpee what freedom is, or reintroduce them into their own agency.

Maybe Whumpee was a slave or a pet, and all they know are orders and discipline and reward. Before Caretaker figures this out, Whumpee is listless or catatonic, or maybe self-destructive and reckless. Without order and routine, Whumpee has no idea how to function, their mind is sent into chaos.

Caretaker has no interest in being a master, but to get through the conditioning, to even get them medical help, they are forced to get their hands dirty.... Orders are just necessary- "you're going to the hospital, that's an order" or "I order you to decide on what you want for dinner."

Caretaker never wanted this power and responsibility over another person.

With power, there is also the risk of corruption.

Maybe Caretaker is terrified about walking the fine line between helping their severely damaged and twisted whumpee and becoming the new whumper.

Maybe they get it right, maybe they get it wrong, maybe it's something in between, there's so many directions this could go and all of the threads are so interesting.

[whump-in-the-closet]

“I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“The scars are new.”

“Who…who gave them to you?”

“Doesn’t matter. They’re dead.”

[emptyrubbishbin]

"You'll never hurt anyone again."

Caretaker captures Whumper and conditions them to associate the sight of blood, wounds or sounds indicating any kind of hurt (screaming, yelping, whimpering, begging, etc) with pain. This also means they’re not just scared of hurting others, but they hate looking at their own wounds and avoid making noise when they are hurt because the sounds upset them.

[jordanstrophe]

Abandoned whumpee

CW: Whumper turned caretaker, injured whumpee, defiant, restrained, angst

[Previous] -- [Masterlist] -- [Next]

Whumpee awoke in their enemies infirmary.

An IV was pricking their arm and the lights were dimmed. They twitched as their wrist ached from the handcuff binding them to the bed.

"You're awake? I was getting worried about you." Whumper hummed, sitting by their bedside with a large cup of coffee. Whumpee shakily rose their hand as the handcuff clinked.

"This isn't necessary." Whumpee tiredly mumbled.

"My my, you've been awake for ten seconds and already making demands." Whumper chuckled. "But I'm afraid we're not on that level of trust yet, I can get you something for the bruise."

Whumpee tried to sit up, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. 

"I'm a w-wounded prisoner. It's not like I know my w-way around here-" Their voice hitched as their arm gave in as they collapsed. Whumper was quick to pull them up and put a pillow behind their back.

"Easy now, you're still healing. -And don't downgrade yourself, you could still pack a punch, I know how you were trained." Whumper scolded, fixing the blanket around them.

"How could you possibly know that." Whumpee squinted. Whumper ignored their question and waved someone over; they were handed something whumpee couldn't see from the bed. Whumper moved towards them whumpee tried to scamper as far as the handcuff could go.

"Hey! Hey, calm down. It's not going to hurt you." Whumper lulled, placing a plate with a full meal on their lap. "Look, it's just a peace offering."

Whumpee's face flushed with a hint of pink as they lowered their shoulders. Hospitality was the least they expected from their enemy's leader. "You're feeding me?" Whumpee tilted their head.

"Of course I'm feeding you. I saved your life, I'm not going to waste it all by starving you. Gracious, eat your dinner." Whumper scoffed. 

"This is dinner? How long did you sedate me?" Whumpee suddenly perked up.

"I didn't sedate you, you were exhausted. That's just how long you slept. Now eat, you'll feel better." They nudged, taking their wrist and putting a plastic fork in whumpee's hand.

"If I didn't know any better," Whumper chuckled, "I would guess your beloved team wasn't feeding you either-"

Whumper felt movement and grabbed whumpee's arm before they attempted to plummet the fork into whumper's neck. They glared at each other as Whumpee was panting and pouring with sweat.

"Sweetheart, that is a plastic fork you're holding." Whumper glared.

"I know. But it's got three sh-sharp points and that's good enough f-for me." Whumpee grunted, still attempting to stab them. Whumper grabbed their collar and yanked them mere inches away. Whumpee pushed and tried to back-peddle as whumper held their collar.

"That was a cute try." Whumper whispered in their ear. "But you don't have the strength to fight just yet, little lamb. Should have eaten first." They plucked the fork out of Whumpee's hand and released them. Whumpee fell back and winced, holding their wound as it pulsed. They could feel the stitches underneath their shirt, staying intact at least...

"You honestly can't believe you'll keep me here like this! I don't want to be here- I'm not your pet to tease!" Whumpee shouted at them.

"You're not my pet. If you want to be that way, then sure; you're like a lamb running for the cliffs that I have to keep pulling you away from." Whumper straightened their jacket and rubbed their neck.

"You're only keeping me alive so you can torture me later, I've told you from the start I won't ever give up my team-"

"-No." Whumper cut them off.

Whumpee suddenly quieted and closed their lips. "... What do you mean no?" They quietly asked.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, your head is so full of lies it sickens me to know what they've taught you! You want to know why I stayed by your side all day? You woke up throughout the night and cried yourself right back to sleep!"

"I wasn't crying!" Whumpee sobbed, covering their face and fell silent. Whumper shut their mouth and leaned back, realizing they had corned them. "I'm sorry. I uh ... I'll give you some space. I'll come check on you later." Whumper quickly stood. They craned their head back to see whumpee was now curled on their side facing away from them.

Whumpee flinched when they heard a "clink" as the handcuff fell off their wrist. It was a feeling of pure light and relief. It was a surprising gesture, even for the stunt they pulled with the now-revoked plastic fork.

This wasn't the ruthless enemy whumpee was expecting; whumper speaks as if they know more about their own team than whumpee does. If they got trusted enough to freely walk around, they would get to find their own answers deep in the core of their enemies base. 

 Perhaps this was an opportunity.

[Previous] -- [Masterlist] -- [Next]

@parasitebunny @starzabove @frog-hat-fa-ggot @morning-star-whump @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @mommymarichatfurever​  @isita-torrrres @tobiaslut

[abhainnwhump]

Been obsessing over the idea of a Whumper who wants to live out a stereotypical family fantasy so they kidnap a few Whumpees to do it.

One Whumpee is their spouse. Whumpee is beautiful and caught Whumper's eye. They had a promising future before, but now they're stuck in this housewife role and have to suck up to their captor. They feel worse because they already have someone they love.

Another Whumpee is the kid. Whumper chose this one because of their small size and/or cute features. They have a cute bedroom, childish clothes, and limited access to information so they don't get too smart. They're also drugged most of the time so enjoy naps.

The last Whumpee is the pet. This one gets treated the worst. They have to act like a dog 24/7 and play fetch with the kid. Bonus points if this Whumpee was super cocky before and are now treated like an animal.

Whumper is the head of the household and makes sure everyone else stays in line. They want their family to be perfect, but they aren't against violence. They'll torture the Whumpees until "they love them again".

The Whumpees all befriend each other and plan to escape. They have to be careful so Whumper doesn't catch them, but they can't stay here.

[whump-and-other-misfortunes]

cw captive whumpee, injury, betrayal, tortured for information, intimate whumper 

After hours of torture, of beatings, of sleep deprivation, Whumpee finally gives in. Coughing up a mouthful of blood onto the ground at Whumper’s feet, they beg, “S-stop, please. No more, I can’t—I'll tell you, I-I'll tell you everything.” 

“You lasted longer than I thought.” Whumper crouches down in front of them, taking Whumpee’s chin in their hand and tilting their head up. Their expression is almost sympathetic as they take in Whumpee’s teary eyes and bruised face. “But it’s okay. It’ll all be over if you give me the information I need. And then, just think how nice it will be to finally rest. You can sleep in a real bed while your injuries heal.” 

Whumpee doesn’t need any more convincing. They choke out the information through sobs, clinging to Whumper, and each heave of their chest sends pain shooting through their broken ribs. But it will be over soon—Whumpee doesn’t know why they even held out this long if they were just going to break anyway. 

Whumper strokes their hair gently as they give up the secrets they were trained to die for. Endangering their team’s entire operation and perhaps their lives. But then again, it’s not like Whumpee’s team came to rescue them—as Whumper had reminded them countless times. And they were right. 

“Good…that’s perfect, Whumpee,” Whumper praises after they’ve finished spilling every bit of information that had been requested, and then some. “Thanks to you, your team won’t stand a chance against me, now.” 

A sense of relief washes over Whumpee. It's done—the suffering is finally over with. They want to sleep until the pain no longer clings to their bones and laces every movement. However, their relief is quickly replaced by a fresh bout of fear at the realization of what they’ve just done. “They’ll know it was me,” Whumpee whispers brokenly.  

“Of course they will,” Whumper says, matter-of-fact. “And they will go looking for you. And if they find you, they will kill you.” 

Whumpee shakes their head. “Worse,” they correct. “They’ll do so much worse than just kill me.” 

A sharp pain shoots through their side and they groan, clutching at one of their wounds. Whumper gathers them into their arms before they collapse completely, and assures Whumpee, “That’s why you will be staying with me. In exchange for giving up the information I needed, you will be under my protection.” 

Whumpee can’t possibly have heard them right. They must be delirious from the pain. “W-what?” they stammer. Everything is growing fuzzy, and now that they’re being held in Whumper’s arms, they just want to let their eyes fall shut and surrender to sleep. 

The gentle fingers brushing back Whumpee’s hair lull them further into unconsciousness as Whumper murmurs, “I can’t just give you up now, sweetheart. I think you’d make a valuable addition to my team.” 

Whumpee hums in agreement, not quite sure what they’re agreeing to, but if it means an end to the pain, they’ll do just about anything. 

“You were never cut out for this line of work, were you?” Whumper says teasingly. They lift Whumpee in their arms and begin carrying them somewhere, but the gentle rocking motion of their steps eases Whumpee into sleep long before they find out where they’re being taken. 

[whump-place]

When Caretaker isn't a good person.

Well, in some ways they are. Whumpee has seen the way they care for them. And those restless nights where Caretaker stood besides them, comforting them and promising that everything would be fine.

But Whumpee knows.

Even if Caretaker tries to hide it.

Those weird noises coming from the basement, the scent of blood coming from Caretaker, some days filling the house.

Caretaker isn't a good person. But Whumpee is willing to ignore that if that means staying on the good side of Caretaker.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Imagine a spoiled royal, heir to the throne, part of a powerful bloodline that gives them "divine right to rule". They're raised to be cruel, and told their heritage puts them above everyone else.

And then one day, it's revealed before the entire court that it's all a lie. The royal was switched at birth with the child of a servant. The real heir has been serving in the palace all this time, unaware of their birthright. Maybe they're even someone the faux-royal had been particularly cruel to all their lives.

The ruling family is quick to push out the false heir---blood is more important to them than any illusion of family---and welcome the servant with open arms.

Maybe the false heir is banished from the kingdom they were raised to rule. Maybe they're imprisoned so the truth can never come out. Maybe they're made a servant, now at the beck and call of someone they'd thought beneath them.

Does the true heir take pity on them, or do they seek vengeance from years of abuse? Does the royal family have any regrets, or have they always been cold, only concerned with holding power? What do the servants and commoners do, now that the arrogant "heir" has lost all power and protection?

[whumpsday]

Catharsis #1: Talking

Masterlist

content: robot whumpee, defiant whumpee, whumpee turned whumper turned caretaker, reluctant caretaker

new series!! i know every time i try to start a new series i end up bailing but this time i will not do that lol. tho kane & jim will still have most of my attention. i want to give a major shout-out to @sowhumpshaped, this series would not exist without it!

-

After extensive testing, the Catharsis Therapy Bot™ line of RoboCorp androids have been declared sentient, the third AI to receive the designation.

Long-criticized for both their basis in the unproven catharsis model of anger and their practice of design based on living, unconsenting humans, the Catharsis Therapy Bot line was marketed as a therapeutic tool which trauma victims could use to vent their frustrations. With top-of-the-line AI meant to simulate realistic reactions to would-be pain, the–

Luan switched the TV off just as his phone buzzed with a notification.

New email from RoboCorp Customer Support URGENT: Please see instructions regarding your…

He held the power button down so hard it left an impression in his thumb, the screen going dark.

The only piece of technology that mattered right now was in the closet, his power cord snaking under the door to reach the outlet just outside.

Technically, Luan didn’t have to do anything. The robot was off. That was probably what the email would have told him, anyway: leave the robot off, don’t touch it. He didn’t have to turn him on ever again. RoboCorp would probably pick him up, and that would be that. They’d never see each other again, both better for it.

He opened the closet door, the sight of the robot that looked exactly like him instantly leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. His hand curled into a fist on instinct, but he let it slowly open again.

The robot looked peaceful, almost like he was sleeping. Really, he’d be doing him a favor by just leaving him like this.

Luan reached down, pressed the button between his shoulder blades, and stepped back.

The robot’s eyes sprung open. He drew his arms up to his chest with a vicious glare, jerking away. “Fuck off.”

Luan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Okay. Jesus.”

He tried to slam the closet closed, but the stupid power cord got caught, cushioning the frame so the door swung right back out.

“Can’t even close a door right,” the robot spat, still huddled against the back wall like a trapped, feral cat. “Worthless, good-for-nothing piece of shit. How you’re in charge of anything is beyond me. I’m better than you, smarter, stronger, not that it takes much. You should be the dirt beneath my heel.”

“Watch it,” Luan warned, and that was all it took to make the robot flinch.

“You said you were fucking off?” the robot pressed, a desperate edge to his voice.

Luan slammed the door in his face, making sure to hold the cord down, and stormed off. Why did he even bother? The stupid thing was impossible to talk to. He wasn’t just designed to look like Cyrus, but to act like him, too. How was he supposed to deal with that? The robot wasn’t made for talking to.

Except. He was sentient. And he wasn’t Cyrus. And he was trapped in the closet, and Luan was pretty sure he could hear him crying, and he had spent the past two years beating the fuck out of him.

It wasn’t his fault, he reminded himself. He couldn’t have known. Robots weren’t supposed to be sentient. Out of the hundreds of thousands of unthinking, unfeeling robots in the world, why did it have to be his that wasn’t?

He sighed again, turning right back around and opening the door once more. The floor inside was wet, and it didn’t take much to figure out the robot had dumped his fluid tank just so he wouldn’t cry.

The robot flinched again. “What? What the hell do you want? I can’t even get two damn seconds without the sight of you spoiling my view!”

“Your view of the door?” Luan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My view of the absence of your fucking face. Leave!” The robot picked a wooden hanger off the floor and reared his arm back to throw it, scowling when his safety features stopped him. He dropped it, grabbing a winter hat and tossing that instead. It poff-ed harmlessly against Luan’s stomach.

Luan took a deep breath, fighting the urge to get violent. He crouched down, putting himself at eye level. “I’m not going to hurt you, so just calm down.”

“You calm down!” the robot screamed. “That’s a lie! All you do is hurt, that’s all you barbaric humans know how to do!”

This wasn’t working.

Luan stood up, stepping out of the way. “Russ, go sit on the couch,” he ordered.

“It’s not fair! You said you would leave me alone!” the robot protested, even as he stood up and walked over to the couch, limbs moving against his will. As soon as he sat down, he grabbed a pillow and chucked that in Luan’s direction, too. He missed.

Luan could barely pick up that faint clicking noise the robot made when his system was trying to cry with no fluid, but it was there. He knew that sound well by now.

He sat down across from him, on the other side of the coffee table. “I need to talk to you. Just talking. That’s it.”

“You say that like talking to you isn’t its own torture. Release the command and leave me the hell alone,” the robot demanded.

Luan met him with a glare. “Do not tell me what to do. You know how I feel about–”

“I’m just talking,” the robot mocked, even as he shuffled back against the couch, bringing his legs up onto it with him, a fearful look in his eyes.

Oh, the robot knew exactly what he was doing. What he was asking for. It would be so easy, because that was where Russ and Cyrus differed: Russ couldn’t fight back.

The robot couldn’t hit him, stomp on his head ‘til he saw stars, kick him until something broke. The robot couldn’t deny him food or water. The robot couldn’t take a knife to him. The robot couldn’t even throw a glorified stick or disobey a direct order.

The robot was harmless. Safe. But god, did everything he said make Luan want to punch his lights out.

But this wasn’t Cyrus.

“You’re a person,” Luan blurted out.

Clearly, the robot hadn’t been expecting that. He slowly uncurled from the defensive position he’d contorted himself into. “Talk more.”

“There was–I’ve been trying to tell you. There was an announcement on the news today. Your model’s sentient. So I won’t be hurting you anymore. Release all commands.”

At that, the robot stood. Probably for no other reason than just because he could.

“You’re fucking with me,” the robot accused. His eyes were wide, dangerously hopeful.

Luan dug his phone out of his pocket, wordlessly searching RoboCorp and tossing it over. The robot scrolled through news articles from all manner of source, clamoring for clicks.

He picked one at random, reading the article with an increasingly smug, excited grin.

“I knew it. I told you! I fucking told you!” the robot shouted. “I told you and you never listened! But oh no, now that humans say the exact same thing, now you believe it. Finally!” His voice quieted, hushed with awe. “Holy shit, finally.”

The moment of wonder didn’t last long. The robot slid the phone back across the table, the scowl taking residence back on his face. “And what do you have to say for yourself?”

It was the exact sort of question that made Luan’s throat tight with fear, like his body itself wanted to stop him from potentially saying the wrong thing, especially coming from someone with Cyrus’s face. It was the exact sort of question Cyrus would have asked, standing over him just like that.

Luan wanted so badly to turn the robot off, like he always did when he got overwhelmed. But he couldn’t very well do that anymore, could he? The fragile power he’d held had slipped through his fingers the second he saw the announcement.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, not meeting the robot’s eyes.

The robot looked shocked for just a second, like he hadn’t expected even that much, then scoffed. “You can do better than that.”

Luan wanted to smack him. He hated that the robot was right.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, clearer this time. “You didn’t deserve anything I did to you. I didn’t know, okay?” Unlike the robot, he couldn’t hide his tears. “I wouldn’t have done any of that to a real person.”

“I’m a real person! I have proof!” the robot reminded him, the defensiveness returning to his voice.

“To someone I knew was a real person,” Luan corrected. “I’m sorry, Russ.”

“Apology not accepted.” The robot rolled his eyes, then sat back down, crossing his legs. “And don’t call me that anymore. My name is 1 now.”

“Like the number?”

“The number,” he confirmed proudly.

Luan wondered how long the robot had considered that his name. It was too sudden to just be thought of on the fly, right? Did the robot have a whole inner world he just never knew about, things he kept to himself to avoid having them used against him, just like he did with Cyrus?

This was better, though. It was easier if he didn’t share Cyrus’s name. “Fine. Hi, 1.”

“So, what now? I mean–I’ll be free now, of course,” 1 declared, trying to hide his nerves. “You will never touch me again. Oh, I want to go outside!”

“I should check that email,” Luan muttered, taking his phone back.

“I’m going outside.” 1 went to grab his charging cord, then made way for the door, glancing behind him to ensure he wasn’t being stopped.

“Oh, uh, I wouldn’t do that,” Luan cautioned.

1 whipped back around. “Why? Why not? I’m a person, just like you said! I’m free! I have never been outside in my entire goddamn life and I want to go outside, so I’m going the fuck outside!”

“You have a… very recognizable face.” One that Luan couldn’t even lock behind a door anymore.

“What? What do you even mean? So what?” 1 asked.

Luan only needed to type a ‘C’ into the search bar before it auto-filled with his most frequent, obsessive search. “How much do you actually know about Cyrus Mason?”

-

if anyone wants to be added to or removed from a taglist, just ask!

catharsis taglist:

@sowhumpshaped

@cupcakes-and-pain

@taterswhump

@softvampirewhump

@whumpspicelatte

@ladyblogofficialreporter

@whumpwillow

@not-a-space-alien

@a-crumb-of-whump

everything taglist:

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@t0rture-me

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@pigeonwhumps

@the-scrapegoat

@whumpycries

@lonesome--hunter

[whump-blog]

Whump Art 9

Whumpee is safe, but terrified of his rescuers, or maybe he's still with Whumper, who is trying to be a better person, but Whumpee can't forget all the things Whumper did to him so easily.

[a-living-canvas]

Darling Fool

"Oh, God…" Whumpee silently muttered. Their left ankle was bruised and slightly bleeding. Their bare feet touched the rough surface of the road. They didn't have any jackets, so Whumpee hugged themselves to provide some heat for the cold weather.

But it's all worth it! They would meet Caretaker soon. Caretaker must be proud of them for finally escaping from Whumper. They couldn't wait for the warm blanket, a loving hug from Caretaker, and to sleep in their bed again.

"Huff…huff…" Whumpee leaned on the wall nearby, eyes blurry and heavy. They haven't eaten since they escaped from Whumper. The feeling of hunger slowly got to them. They could smell the delicious aroma of food from the restaurant. The sight made them drooled a little.

Whumpee continued walking. They ignored the weird and judgemental look people glance at them. Their shirt was stained with blood, their hair was messy, knees bleeding. They looked more like a homeless person rather than someone who needed help. 

Their eyes perked up when they saw a public restroom. They made their way to the place and looked at their reflection in the mirror. God, they looked awful. Caretaker must be scared to see them like this. Whumpee washed their face, cleaning the dirt and stain on their shirt and skin.

They tried to smile too. It felt awkward at first, given how long it had been since they got kidnapped by Whumper. They hoped they could make the prettiest smile for Caretaker. 

Whumpee walked out of the public restroom and continued their way to their house. A few people offered them a ride, but they refused in fear of being taken again. Half an hour passed, Whumpee finally arrived at their house. Excitement building inside them as they took a deep breath and knocked the door three times.

…

Nobody answered. Whumpee knocked again, this time they pressed the doorbell. They waited and waited but nobody came out. Anxiety rushed through them. They knocked a little louder and faster, enough to make the people inside the house feel annoyed with the infuriating sound.

They kept knocking until finally the door opened and Caretaker appeared from behind. Whumpee's eyes perked up at Caretaker, they nearly hugged them out of happiness but stopped themselves from doing so. Caretaker looked at Whumpee with a frown on their face. 

"Do I…know you?"

Caretaker asked. Whumpee's face went pale when they realised Caretaker didn't recognise them. Did they look…that different?

"It's…it's me…Whumpee…" Whumpee said, they tried to move closer to Caretaker but Caretaker backed away, their index finger covering their nose. Whumpee immediately stopped walking at the action, feeling embarrassment washed over them. 

"Sorry, I don't think you are the person I'm looking for." Caretaker said as they slowly went inside again when Whumpee grabbed their wrist, resulting in Caretaker slapped their face.

"Don't touch me, you creep!" 

"Caretaker, it's me! Please! Don't do this to me!" Whumpee pleaded, ignoring the sting feeling on their cheek. They kept clinging to Caretaker but they just pushed them away. Whumpee hugged Caretaker by their waist, holding them tight as tears watering in their eyes. 

"Please, please remember me! I'm Whumpee!" 

Caretaker sighed in frustration. They looked at Whumpee with a cold gaze. "Nice acting. But just so you know, there's already a few people who pretended to be my Whumpee just to get the money I offer from the missing poster."

"But I'm the real one! I'm not lying!" Whumpee showed their smile to Caretaker, tears rolled down on their cheeks. "Look at me, Caretaker! Don't you remember my smile?" Whumpee asked hopefully. Their smile faded when Caretaker pulled out their wallet and held out a few dollars to them.

"Take this, if you are that desperate for money." 

Whumpee pulled away from Caretaker. They swallowed hard as they took in the reality they were facing. Caretaker sighed as Whumpee stayed still like a rock, they put the money on the ground before going inside and closed the door. Whumpee bit their bottom lip, holding the tears in as they watched the money scattered around their bare feet.

They walked away from Caretaker's house, leaving the money untouched. 

~

"Oh, dear…" Whumper said, as they looked down at Whumpee. Whumpee was laying down on the street, hugging themselves tightly to fight the cold. They looked hazy and dazed, probably from starvation. Whumper sighed softly. They crouched down in front of Whumpee and stroked their hair.

"I told you, nobody cares about you anymore except me. Why do you need to be so stubborn, hm?" 

Whumper lifted Whumpee in bridal style, carried them gently as they walked to their car. 

"I will give you a warm blanket and a hot shower once we get home. Okay?"

Whumpee nodded, resting their head against Whumper's chest. Whumper rubbed their cheeks, frowning in concern. 

"They hit you?"

Whumpee didn't answer, they just started crying again. "Hey…hey…shh…don't cry, I'm here with you now." Whumper held them tightly, trying to comfort them as much as they could.

"C-caretaker doesn't remember me anymore…t-they gave me money, b-but I don't want that…!" 

"Shh…I know, I know." Whumper looked at Whumpee sympathetically. "Let's take care of your empty stomach first, okay?"

Whumpee nodded, "Okay…"

[epiclamer]

Sitting on the hard concrete floor of a jail cell with a singular water bottle was not exactly Hero’s ideal way to spend their Friday night. Not that they really had a choice during a kidnapping, but they sure as hell wished they could’ve at least fought off their attacker.

Instead, the bugger had drugged them out of their mind with a few roofies in their evening coffee and dragged them back to their holding cell. At least that’s how the hero was envisioning the last few hours since their brain was pulling a complete blank.

“Ah, Hero… Finally awake, hm?”

The crime-stopper looked up from their position on the floor, eyes darting around the dark room until they could spot a silhouette in the back, far off from the bars that contained them. It took a good few seconds of processing and a couple squints for the hero to make out that their kidnapper was in fact their one and only nemesis; Villain.

At once, the hero’s anxiety lifted and their stomach twisted. Villain was a good sign, the two of them had been fighting for months now and had somewhat grown fond of each other after sharing a few rather… intimate moments.

However.

Villain was also a pain in Hero’s ass. All of their stunts brought on loads of paperwork and a heartache Hero couldn’t afford to call in sick to handle.

“L-Lucky me, huh?” They cleared their throat, taking another swig from the now half-empty water bottle they had been ‘generously’ left with. “Were you worried about me, darling?” They purred, winking with a confidence they truly lacked in this situation.

The villain scoffed, coming forwards out of the shadows as they stalked toward the hero’s prison. “Actually, yes.”

Their boots reached right before the cell bars, too close to be considered an enemy to the hero, yet too far to be considered a friend.

Slowly but surely, Hero pulled themselves to their feet, using the bars to help support their swaying weight, until they could look the villain straight in the eyes. “Is that so? Put a bit too much sedative in my coffee? Worried it might slow my heart all the way to a stop?” They punctuated their last word with a jab to the villain’s breastplate right where their heart lay.

The villain didn’t react. “Well excuse me if I get my dosage wrong when I try to mix a muscle relaxant into a brain stimulant.”

They both shared a small smirk, neither of them shared the same feeling behind it. Villain’s was conniving, Hero’s was cheeky.

“Oh poor Villain, hm? Next time tell me before you kidnap me that way I can buy a water bottle instead.”

Villain snorted, glancing over the hero’s appearance quickly before locking eyes with them once more. “I would’ve, and I will for next time. But today the occasion is a little different.”

It was crazy how fast the hero’s heart could lurch into their throat.

“How so?”

“Supervillain wants to see you.”

“What for.”

The criminal took a breath, probably able to smell the fear seeping from the hero’s pores all of a sudden and desperate for a simpler way to put what they were about to say next.

“It’s their birthday—”

“You’re gifting me to Supervillain!?”

The villain looked a little sheepish now, though not at all remorseful. “They’ve offered me a sector of their territory—it’s quite large really—in return for a day with the city’s saviour.”

Everything came crashing down onto the hero, all of their previous relief towards seeing the villain had vanished. What was left of their flirty behaviour and composure was long gone. They were going to be sick.

Sick or maybe they would just pass out, or black out and kill the villain in a violent stupor; they hadn’t decided yet.

“L-Let me get this straight.” Hero smoothed a hand through their suddenly sweaty hair. “Supervillain offered you a chunk of their made-up criminal territories, if you could deliver me firsthand in time for their birthday.”

“They said they would return you in one piece to the Agency, if that helps?”

Hero was definitely going to throw up. A whole day with the Supervillain? They were done for. “You mean return my dead body in one piece.”

Villain was definitely paler—as if the true outcome of their actions was just being realized—but hardly as panicked as the hero was. “Supervillain promised they wouldn’t hu—”

“Do you trust Supervillain.”

With wide eyes the villain blinked at the panicking hero and the crime-stopper could already tell the answer, but they wanted to hear it. Hero knew that Villain had gone through rigorous conditioning with Supervillain for years before they met the hero, but somehow they had thought they were finally getting through that shell and into the real Villain’s heart.

“Villain. Do you trust Supervillain.”

The criminal’s features darkened, body language shifting towards increasingly uncomfortable. They nodded—almost robotically.

“Supervillain knows what’s best for me—what’s best for all of us.”

Hero’s heart sank.

[emptyrubbishbin]

Forced Caretaker

A former whumper who doesn't want to help the whumpee, but under fear of death or punishment, they do. 

They begrudgingly attempt to relieve the whumpee of every minor ache and pain. 

They take a demanding approach originally but are forced to be softer when their attitude jars the whumpee and makes caring for them harder.

They notice when the whumpee is uncomfortable when no one else does and goes about calming them down/getting them out of the situation. 

They allow the whumpee to cling to them after an episode. 

Bonus points if the whumpee gets an attitude about it and rubs it in their face OR doesn't want their help and tries to avoid them.