#after whump

[whumpersome]

caretaker trying to teach whumpee bodily autonomy after they've been conditioned to accept physical abuse

caretaker has no idea what they're doing. they took some self-defence classes half a decade ago but they know that trying to get whumpee to fight from the get-go would end with them collapsing and ugly crying into the boxing gloves.

they figure that this is probably way too much all at once and that whumpee needs much smaller steps. so caretaker orders them to say 'stop' to their face, watching whumpee tense up in horror. but they say it. blurted out at first but steadily getting more secure as they learn that they won't be punished. then caretaker (very slowly) walks towards whumpee, and orders them to say 'stop' before they can get close enough to touch. whumpee doesn't understand, like a deer in the headlights they freeze in place, eyes squeezed shut and knees buckling as caretaker walks directly at them.

whumpee can't even speak (the impossible choice ringing horribly in their head), not knowing if the defiance of staying silent or telling caretaker to stop would be worse. there are tears in their eyes. so caretaker reaches whumpee, seeing them tremble up close, pain stabbing at their chest in sympathy. immediately followed by numbing cold anger at whumper. but no matter how painful, this has to be done. whumpee had to learn that caretaker will listen. that their words have weight again. they try to keep the emotion out of their voice while telling them that, hey. it's ok. we can try again. it's ok if you don't get it right immediately, I can see that you're trying and that's really good! you're doing so good. can you try again for me?

it doesn't work, not at first, whumpee can't bring themself to say the word and it haunts them the entire night. they barely sleep at all, will they be punished if they keep failing? or will they be punished for succeeding and it was all just a test to teach whumpee their place. who are they to tell their new master 'no'. the thought makes them want to throw up. but caretaker keeps dragging them back to the practice room, slowly walking up to whumpee over and over and over again. they start to wonder if this is worth it, what if their efforts do nothing and traumatize whumpee all over again? so when they hear the tiny, almost inaudible 'stop' after what feels like ages(!) it makes caretaker stop dead in their tracks.

a beaming smile spreads across their face and they almost run to bury whumpee in the proudest, most affectionate hug of their life when they remember that moving now and ignoring the 'stop' would set them back to the beginning. so they breathe out deeply and tell whumpee that they're proud of them. that they did really well and that caretaker will make their favourite food as a reward. and hot chocolate. whumpee is still starting at the floor though, confused and terrified and in disbelief.

it will take a long time for whumpee to say 'stop' with confidence, caretaker thinks to themself, but they will get there. maybe they'll even say it outside of the training room one day

[whumppromptoftheday]

Whumpee walks into work looking pallid, ill, and dragging one foot behind them. A coworker shoots them a concerned glance and they just growl “Don’t. Fucking. Ask.”

.

[chaotic-orphan]

That’s Enough

“Stop it,” Caretaker said once the sound of knuckles thudding mutely turned to squelching. Caretaker stared at Whumpee, the sweat flying from them as they continued to punch the punching bag. “Hey. Whumpee, that’s enough.”

Whumpee didn’t listen. They just kept jabbing in the one two movement they had been doing for the half hour. Caretaker let go of the bag but Whumpee moved with it.

“Hey! Whumpee,” Caretaker hissed, stepping in front of Whumpee, hands up palms facing Whumpee. “That’s enough, you’re hurting yourself.”

Whumpee didn’t listen. Instead, they started punching Caretaker’s hands. Caretaker snapped their hand closed but Whumpee retracted their arm swiftly to their chest to punch again, their eyes distant and hard.

“Whumpee! Whumpee,” Caretaker snapped as Whumpee’s fists started coming harder on Caretaker’s palms. Caretaker stepped forward into Whumpee’s punches and reached a hand up, locking it around Whumpee’s wrist. Whumpee yanked it back but Caretaker held firm.

Only then did Whumpee seem to snap back into themselves. “Let go of me.”

“I said that’s enough, Whumpee. You’re bleeding.”

Whumpee yanked their wrist back towards them but Caretaker didn’t let go. Instead they grabbed Whumpee’s other wrist and clamped their fingers around it too, stopping Whumpee from hurting themself anymore.

Whumpee’s eyes narrowed. “Let go of me, Caretaker! I can look after myself.”

“Clearly you can’t!”

“It’s just a bit of blood!” Whumpee yelled, spit flying from their mouth in anger. “What does it matter?!”

“Blood is meant to be inside your body, Whumpee, not outside.”

“It’s my body,” Whumpee told Caretaker, yanking one of their wrists free. “I’m allowed do what I want to it so let me go.”

“I’m not gonna just stand here and watch you hurt yourself.”

Whumpee let out a crazed, humourless bark of laughter. “Oh, what?” Whumpee asked, eyes glimmering with cruelty. “You want to make me stop, huh? You gonna tie me down like Whumper did because I’m not following your orders? You want to participate like Whumper did?” Whumpee demanded, squaring up to Caretaker, taking a step forward forcing Caretaker back. Whumpee’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Or maybe you want to be the one to make me bleed.”

The question made Caretaker sick. Comparing them to Whumper when all they’ve done is try and help Whumpee? The fact that Whumpee could even make that comparison at all… It was too much. Looking after Whumpee was too much. They let go of Whumpee’s wrist and turned away, walking towards the doors of the gym.

“What? Where are you going now?”

“I told you to stop, Whumpee,” said Caretaker without turning around, pulling off their own gloves. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. Not my problem.”

Caretaker turned and looked over their shoulder at Whumpee as they opened the door. “But I won’t stand here and watch you finish the job Whumper started. Destroy yourself, why don’t you? You’ll do it on your own.”

[khr-gilded-cage]

I don't like whump whump

I like after

The carateking, the trauma, the healing, the hospital, the revenge and anger done in their name, the worried friends, the flashbacks even

I dislike torture and whumpers

I like the hurt, not hurting

We need a special tag for it?

We should call it After Whump

Or Post Whump?

@foundfamilywhump also sugested Recovery Whump

[a-whump-dis-aster]

Hear me out:

Post-Rescue Whump.

Not figuring out the Whumpee's trauma, not helping them with the cuts and bruises and scars. Although that's all good too.

But what about a Whumper with access to all sorts of inventors and tech. What if the Whumper managed to make a microchip for the Whumpee, injected into their neck, back, etc.

What if the microchip not only tracked, but hurt? Like maybe an implanted shock device, or maybe one that can trigger your brain to make you hallucinate or faint?

I have absolutely no clue how --or if-- this would even work, but then again - that's why I write fantasy.

There's so many possibilities! Caretakers probably wouldn't even know! Why is the Whumpee getting sick/fainting/crying/hallucinating/getting shocked randomly, and at the worst times of the day?

There's no way Whumper could have control, right?