#caretaker?

[w4nd3r3r123456]

caretaker getting tired of whumpees panic attacks or outbursts and using a trigger word that makes them freeze. 1. Whumpee responding the way they would when whumper would use it, absolute still. 2. Freezing out of shock that caretaker is using it. 3. Instant fight response, they attack caretaker.

which would your whumpee do and what happens after?

[xxgal-is-mindxx]

Snippet #3

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It was Hero's wedding; her dress was beautiful. Elegant and awing, highlighting all of Hero's beauty. The weather was perfect, and outside you could hear all of Hero and Superhero's friends chatting and boasting with excitement to see the bride. Absolutely nothing could ruin her day. Hero was prepping herself in the bridal room alone, brushing her hair as a final tidy-up before the ceremony. Until there was a crash in the window. Before Hero could scream, her mouth was covered by someone familiar. "Vmin?!" Hero muffled. "Yes, it's me. Don't worry, I'm here to save you, Hero." Hero looked at Villain bewildered. Out of all days to bother Hero, it had to be today?! Hero furrowed her brows at Villain trying to scuffle away, but Villain was stern and pulled out a cloth from her pocket. Hero instantly became frightened and began to struggle more until Villain clenched her grip on Hero's jaw. "Listen, Hero, you have to trust me on this. I can explain if that'll convince you, but you have to promise not to scream." Hero nodded in agreement, and Villain, after checking Hero for any lies, slowly took her hand off Hero's mouth. "Hero… I know today is your wedding day, but you have to come with me right now!" "Are you serious?! Other Hero has everything covered! Go to them if you wanted to show them whatever you had in store today!" "Hero, you don't understand! I'm not a villain for the sake of being one! I've been trying to warn you, the agency, and everyone! But he's stopping me!" "Are you talking about Superhero? Villain, please! Superhero would never do something like that! Otherwise, I wouldn't be marrying him!"

Clenching the chloroform rag, Villain tensed. That comment seemed to have set her off.

"THAT MAN IS NOT THE SAINT YOU THINK HE IS! PLEASE, HERO, YOU'RE AN ANGEL! I CAN'T LET HIM RUIN YOU! like… like how he ruined me..."

Hero's expression softened as she looked at the villain's solemn face. Hero couldn't help but feel empathy for Villain even if she couldn't understand or believe what Villain was saying was true. Hero wrapped her hands around Villain, embracing the evildoer in a warm hug. She whispered, "Listen, Villain, I don't know if I can believe you. But despite your… destructive actions… I know you've been kind-ish to me, and that's enough to let me know that you would never truly hurt me." It was true; in battle Villain would only aim for Superhero, ignoring the other heroes and in some cases helping them in case they were stuck under rubble or hurt in crossfire.

"It's okay," Hero comforted. "I know what I'm doing, and if you know me well enough, you know that even if Superhero did hurt me, I could get out of it." Villain stilled, then swiftly tackled Hero onto the ground.

"NO!" Villain screamed, "I CAN'T LET HIM HURT YOU, I WON'T LET YOU BECOME ME! YOU CAN BE BETTER THAN ME! YOU CAN AVOID BECOMING LIKE ME! I WON'T LET YOU, HERO! I WON'T! I CAN'T! I WON'T!" The two thrashed about the room, and Hero threw whatever she could at Villain. Hero didn't want to use her pyrokinetic powers in fear of ruining her dress, but Villain didn't care for such things and kept trying to subdue Hero, struggling to put the rag over Hero's mouth. "TRUST ME, HERO, THIS IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD!" Villain cried, hot tears pouring from her eyes.

Outside, Superhero knocked on the door. "Hero, dear? Is everything alright? The wedding started 17 minutes ago; where are you?" Hearing Superhero triggered Villain and gave her the adrenaline rush to overpower Hero. "SUPERHERO!" Hero called, "VILLAIN! VILLAIN IS IN HERE!" Unseen by others, Superhero's face hardened, and he immediately started to bang at the door, mustering his superstrength. Sensing doom was approaching, Villain used one hand to chloroform Hero and her other to lock power-suppressant cuffs onto the bride. Despite Hero's dying cries, Villain threw Hero over her back and bolted out the window, flying away as quickly as possible. Once Superhero got in, Hero and Villain were already gone. All that remained were ripped shreds of a dress and broken furniture. Superhero scowled as the other bridesmaids and groomsmen came soon after, comforting Superhero. Superhero glared at the window and thought to himself, "I let one bride go. I won't let two out of my sight"

[itsleelove]

🦇 + 🪡 ( i coudn’t find the pin/tack emoji 😭😭 )

Leathery wings + pinned

TW: Nails, pinned, displayed

"Shut up, you fucking demon."

Whumpee screamed as the nail was driven in near the base of their wing and grit their teeth as the next nail went in the other side, forcing them to stand flush against the wall or tear their wings. Whumper got off them, moving down their wings, positioning them so they were as full out as possible, and nailing them down as they went.

When Whumper finished, they stood back to admire their work. Whumpee hung their head as they struggled to catch their breath.

Whumpee felt their feet slipping and opened their eyes in time to see the floor open out from under them. For a moment, the full weight on their pinned wings was too much to process, but after a moment to adjust to the new level of pain, Whumpee hit their head back against the wall with a restrained scream through their teeth.

"Now it's perfect. I'll just give you some time to get used to that before our event in a couple of days, hm?" Whumper turned and walked out of the room, turning out the lights and closing the door behind themself.

-

At the event, Whumpee was barely awake. Even the movement from breathing hurt and they had been here for days.

Even in their half delusional state, Whumpee seemed to perceive someone stopping by regularly, just standing to stare. It wasn't Whumper. Whumpee couldn't bring themself to see the person's face correctly, but they were tall, and very fair.

The event ended. Everyone was ushered out. Whumper stopped by to see if Whumpee was still alive, then left again. A couple more hours ticked by.

"Hey." Came a soft voice. Whumpee didn't recognize it. They lifted their head as much as they could and saw the same hazy figure that had stopped by multiple times during the event. Why were they there? "Can you speak?" The person stepped closer.

Whumpee let their head fall back down. They winced and whimpered weakly as the person touched one of the nails at the base of Whumpee’s wing.

"... Hang on." The figure said as they walked away.

Whumpee closed their eyes. Suddenly, they felt something under their feet. They opened their eyes. The floor was back under them. Whumpee struggled to get their feet positioned underneath themself, taking a fraction of the weight off their wings.

The person came to stand back in front of them. "This is gonna hurt, but I'm going to get you down, okay?" They didn't wait for an answer.

Whumpee let out a choked scream as the first nail was pulled back out from the base of their wing.

"Hey, it's okay. I know it hurts, but you need to try and be quiet so Whumper doesn't come to check on you. Can you do that?" Whumpee gave a weak nod. "Good. It's gonna be alright, just hang on."

Whumpee grit their teeth and bit back their screams as more and more nails were removed. Finally only one was left at the top of their left wing. Despite their best attempts to stand, Whumpee was mostly depending on the last nail to hold them up.

Their rescuer pulled the last nail and quickly caught Whumpee as they fell to the ground, wings still fully splayed. They lowered Whumpee to the floor.

"Almost done." Whumpee heard as black started to dim the edges of their vision. "I'm going to fold your wings back and take you out of here."

Whumpee whispered something as they slipped in unconsciousness, but they were too far to understand their own words.

[w4nd3r3r123456]

Changes (1)

Changes two

(Re-written)

Caretaker sat with Whumpee at the edge of the bed, the curtains drawn closed on the window as the chandelier above head illuminated the room. Much to Whumpee’s dismay, Caretaker had just finished explaining how he had to travel for work and thought it was best to leave Whumpee in the care of one of his friends. He sat there intently studying Whumpee for his reaction, for any hint of a negative reaction. Caretaker had just taken Whumpee in, how could they afford to argue with caretakers judgement? 

Caretaker spent the next hour packing the clothes they had bought for Whumpee over the past week, constantly ushering them back to their bed or handing them a book whenever they tried to help. Before long the sleek black suitcase stood ready at the door of their room. Caretaker gave their arm a light squeeze before going to get his own things ready, dimming the lights in Whumpee’s room as he wished him a good night. 

They both awoke before the sun the following morning, every action Whumpee did was with a solemn silence, their nerves on edge even as Caretaker spilled praises about the person they would be left with for the next two weeks. “Hey,” Caretaker turned to Whumpee as they pulled into the driveway of a massive building, white marble pillars supporting the externals of the structure. He waited for Whumpee to give him his attention before continuing, “ you call me if anything happens, all right?” Whumpee hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement. In the minutes that followed, Caretaker had taken Whumpee to the door of mansion, greeted his friend and bid Whumpee a farewell. Whumper sighed as he slammed the door shut after Caretaker’s departure, his arm instantly darting out and wrapping around Whumpee’s slender form, a friendly grin masking his face. “Don’t worry, you won’t miss him," he prodded at Whumpee.

Whumper had lied. Whumpee laid at the foot of Whumper’s bed, their body bruised and aching, the only thing they COULD do was miss Caretaker, but then again, it was them who had stuck Whumpee in this situation. Did they know Whumper was like this? Were they mad at Whumpee? Did they regret taking them in? Is that why they had left them here? Despite that, Whumpee had tried to keep their promise, running to the house phone the moment Whumper had struck them, that idea clearly hadn’t worked considering how they could hardly move their legs now. Whumper came out of his bathroom wearing only a bathrobe, his black brushing his shoulders as he walked to his dresser, completely ignoring Whumpee’s limp form. The next two weeks past the same, Whumper would wake early and go to work, giving Whumpee exactly six hours of peace before he would come home and beat Whumpee.

The day had finally come for Caretaker to pick them up. Whumpee could hardly care, their trust in Caretaker shattered, they wouldn’t be surprised if Caretaker didn’t even show to pick them up. They had finished showering, the third time Whumper had let them do so in the two week span and was now sitting by the door, waiting. They stared at the door even as Whumpers steps echoed off the stairs and into the surrounding area, that was Whumpee’s mistake. In a split second, his fingers were curled into Whumpee’s hair, pulling them to their knees as they clawed at his hand and whimpered under him. “Pathetic” Whumper spat as he glared at the grovelling thing beneath them. “ listen you insolent piece of shit ” he began, lowering his face to Whumpee’s “ the moment Caretaker arrives, you WILL smile, you WILL wave good-bye to me, and you WILL NOT mention anything that happened. You’ll tell him we went out every night, you slept in your own bed and i not once laid a finger on you, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” He hissed at Whumpee, who in their pitiful state, could only nod. With that, Whumper dropped their head. Painful as his words were, Whumpee could only be glad that Caretaker had no clue of this. He wasn’t upset at Whumpee and wasn’t going to leave them with Whumper. 

Whumpee had done everything Whumper had told them to and gladly left with Caretaker who asked questions non-stop to Whumpee. “......How was your trip?” The question caught Caretaker off guard but he seemed pleased nonetheless, within seconds he was spilling every detail, grinning as he did so. Every word fell on deaf ears as Whumpee stared out the window, their eyes following the ever changing landscape. “Whumpee? Did you hear me?” Caretaker called out, their grin had fallen into a frown. “Hmm? Oh…no…sorry, i zoned out” Whumpee responded, now folding their arms in their lap, sure to not let their sleeves trail up. Caretaker furrowed his brows, his frown deepening “Are you sure you’re all right? Did something happen?” He questioned. Whumpee let out a deep sigh “....no, sorry…i’m just a bit tired…..happy that you’re back tho.” Caretaker waited a moment before nodded, the rest of the drive polluted by the radio.

The next few months passed without incident. Whumpee lay on their bed, their hair barely touching the floor as their head hung off the side, book in hand. A light knock shook their attention as the door creaked open. Caretaker entered looking unimpressed to say the least, “ I already told you you’ll ruin your blood circulation doing that” he commented as he plucked the book out of Whumpee’s hands and lifted their head onto the bed before sitting down themself. Caretaker inspected the cover as he set it down, Whumpee’s eyes hungrily trailing it. “So, i have to travel again” Caretaker stated, adjusting a few pillows at the head of the bed, not making eye contact with Whumpee who had gone silent. A few moments passed before Caretaker turned his head, confusion lacing his features as he watched Whumpee. “ Whumpee? ” he reached out, his hand resting on their shoulder. One second Whumpee was glancing at his hand, the next they were in front of the room door, arms outstretched as tears flowed down their cheeks. “NO! NO YOU CAN’T LEAVE AGAIN, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE DON’T LEAVE ME AGAIN, I’LL DO ANYTHING YOU SAY, JUST DON’T LEAVE.” They begged as Caretaker rushed over, cradling Whumpee’s small form in his arms, “Shhh, hey it’s okay. I won’t go, alright? I’m right here with you” He lulled into Whumpee’s ear. Hours passed by like that, Caretaker leaning against the doors frame as Whumpee hyperventilated before finally calming down, their cries replaced by apologies and sniffles as they drifted off. Caretaker waited for a few minutes, making sure Whumpee was asleep as he lowered their exhausted form back onto the bed, his fingers brushing through their hair brushed out hair. he leaves to sort out the problem. A mili-second later he's barging out of the house to sort out the problem.

[rainydaywhump]

Whump Drabble: Reed 1

Pt. 1 of Reed's story! Premise: Reed is a spy in a medieval-ish world. Unfortunately for him, he gets captured by a group of enemy soldiers.

Pt. 2 ->

CWs and general themes: multiple whumpers; male whumpee; descriptions of sexual abuse, forced consumption of alcohol, interrogation, and dehumanizing treatment of whumpee; restraints; brief vomit scene from fear. Please let me know if you'd like anything added!

Below the cut.

He couldn’t hold his tongue forever – both of them knew that, both him and the ring of enemy soldiers who were currently sleeping, save for one on guard. It was well past midnight now, and the stars above might have been beautiful if he could see them through his blindfold.

Reed’s mission had started out as a simple one: get the commander’s message to the general by traversing enemy lines on foot, trekking through the rugged wilderness that protected the enemy queen’s fortress to avoid detection. Perhaps that didn’t sound simple, but Reed was a spy, not a normal soldier; when his superior had given him the message, he memorized it and went of without a second thought.

But things had taken a downturn quickly, as they so often did. It was all his fault. He had gotten too cocky; he’d pushed through the forest past daylight, determined to shave off time, and he’d lost his way in the darkness. It was easy to navigate in the open grasslands, where the stars shined bright and clear. But he’d followed one fork in a stream when he should have gone along another, and suddenly he was waking up bound, gagged, and thrown like a ragdoll at the feet of a group of soldiers whose armor and shields all bore the crests of the very kingdom he was trying so hard to avoid.

They put him through at least six days and nights of hell after that -- the real number of days was higher, but Reed lost track of time. He refused to give up the message, and they refused to relent. Since the first day with their captive, the soldiers had ramped up their interrogation methods, and it seemed as if they were having fun with it, too. It was a way for some of them to let off steam and for others to toy with a new victim. By the fourth day, their efforts no longer had any sort of coordination behind them; the men were simply hurting Reed for their own pleasure, both as individuals and together.

Reed’s entire body was now an entire constellation of cuts, bruises, and burns. One of the soldiers, Erac, enjoyed playing with him with a knife, sliding it down his body and jabbing him if he flinched or whimpered; another, whose name Reed hadn’t learned, enjoyed prodding her helpless captive with campfire sticks in the middle of the night to startle him awake. In the morning, she counted the burn marks with glee for the other soldiers. When Reed inevitably let out a groan of pain from whatever the ten-odd soldiers were doing to him, Calac jumped to force gulps of alcohol down his throat. “This’ll help with the pain,” he always said with a wink, making the others laugh and leaving Reed to slip into hazy nausea and confusion, another layer of vulnerability added to his captivity.

Another soldier, who seemed to be at the bottom of the chain of command, found the most pleasure in tying Reed up the most. Ostensibly, it was to prevent the captive from moving when the others tortured him. But the soldier clearly enjoyed it. He bound ropes around Reed’s wrists and thighs so tightly that the prisoner’s legs and hands grew numb, and then he loosened the ropes just enough for the renewed flow of blood to hurt; he fashioned a thick leather collar and buckled it around Reed’s neck in a vice grip, laughing when the spy struggled to breath as stars burst in his vision and as the space behind his nose and between his eyes burned cold. He twisted Reed into dozens of contorted, bound positions, and the soldier would leave him there for hours, the positions never allowing him to relax and straining his muscles until he half-wondered if they would rip off.

Being tied up for long periods of time was excruciating, but Reed dreaded the nights when the man made his restraints a little more comfortable. It wasn't for his comfort, of course; it was to keep up that cloying, possessive sweetness for whichever soldier wanted to use him then, leaving him with a gaping mouth and half-lidded eyes once his captors tired of him.

The soldier's amusements created some tension, at first, between him and the leader. This soldier liked to gag Reed until the corners of his lips bled and until he couldn’t speak from the ache in his abused jaw. Not being able to speak meant that he couldn’t give any information up. But when the leader saw that Reed was determined not to crack, he’d authorized the soldier to cause as much excessive pain, discomfort, and humiliation as possible.

The soldiers never once gave Reed the opportunity to forget that he was just a plaything to them. They stripped him; they’d thrown him over their shoulders, passing him around when they tired of prodding at him, when they needed to transport him from the forest to the grasslands; they’d spit in his mouth, forced him to lick up scraps from their plates, patted him on the head with condescending, cloying, dehumanizing sweetness whenever they finished a torture session.

Somehow, as he laid awake while the other soldiers slept peacefully (save for the one who’d taken up the fourth night watch), the pets still jarred him the most.

They had left him hogtied, gagged, and blindfolded under a dead whose roots kept the taller grasses at bay, with a worn blanket being the only thing that covered him aside from the ropes. Reed came in and out of consciousness, sleep elusive and alertness impossible. With his feverish state came dreams that he could’ve sworn were real, dreams like being rescued or being killed, only for him to wake up and realize the truth with varying degrees of disappointment.

The wind rustled the tall grasses that surrounded their little clearing. The soldier on guard duty yawned audibly. Reed couldn’t yawn even if he wanted to – his jaw was already stretched to his limits by the gag.

The sudden wave of hopelessness that accompanied that miserable observation broke him. He hadn’t cried from emotion all this time; yes, he’d spilled tears from pain and exhaustion, but he hadn’t let himself, hadn’t had the time to cry out of sheer fear and sadness. How much more of this could he take? The thought of giving up the information was vile, but the thought of enduring increasingly-unhinged torture was horrific. He suddenly remembered a conversation he’d caught between the leader and another soldier as he’d passed out earlier in the day: Y’know, this boy is fun to have around. Do the higher-ups really need us to take him to them? And the other had responded, What they don’t know won’t hurt them.

Dazed, defeated, and partly delirious from exhaustion, Reed wasn’t sure if he could trust his memories. But the mere thought of being taken by these soldiers, unbeknownst even to their superiors, just made him sob harder behind the gag and blindfold. He tried to cry silently, but –

“What a pathetic sight,” the guard tsk'd from several paces away. He had been sharpening his sword to idle the time away, the metallic sound echoing in Reed’s head, but now the sound stopped.

Footsteps, muffled but still clear to Reed’s over-strained ears, came closer to him. Reed’s stomach lurched. The tears wouldn’t stop, and he was starting to choke behind the gag, and now the guard was reminded of his presence and was coming to toy with him, why had the guard’s footsteps stopped? Was he looming over Reed now, surveying his prey in satisfaction? What was he going to do?

Did Reed even deserve to plead for mercy?

After all, he’d been the one to fuck this up. He’d failed his mission. He’d let these soldiers break him to the point that now he wanted the soldier to hurt him, if only to have a sense of certainty about what state he’d be left in by morning.

Before his thoughts could carry him any further, Reed saw the tiniest crack of sky. For a split second, he could’ve sworn – and he knew he was just delirious, but for once he wanted to let himself believe – that he saw a strip of moonlight in the corner of his eye.

Under the shadow of a sea of stars, Reed’s mind and body gave out once and for all. He slipped under the waves of unconsciousness without another thought.

…

The first thing Reed registered was that he was alone.

He wasn't sure how exactly he knew this, but it was a skill he'd subconsciously honed over the past many days. And he knew, before he even opened his eyes, that no one else was in the vicinity. No one was watching him. The thought didn't make Reed feel safe, but at least he knew that he wouldn't be hurt immediately.

His body – for he had begun to think of his physical form as my body, not me, at times,because it was a little easier that way – was naked save for a thin sheet laid over it. That was strange; he should be able to feel ropes around his wrists and ankles. But no...no, he supposed it wasn't a big surprise that his captors had untied him. They knew he wouldn't run. He was in too much pain, in too much fatigue to even attempt that now, much less succeed.

He'd given up.

Given in.

No one was coming to save him, and he was glad for it. That would be a waste of decent soldiers.

Everything ached. He wondered dully if his body had stopped bleeding yet, or if his abused skin had simply stopped scabbing over. An odd sort of numbness had come over his pelvis, and his lips had been covered with some sort of viscous substance. Had the men used him while he was unconscious? It would be nice if they could do that instead of keeping him awake, he thought distractedly. But the gel tasted herbal, nothing more.

Reed couldn't resist it anymore. The last vestiges of sleep had fled at the reality of his situation, and he cracked open his eyes, ready for them to meet dry grass and scattered provisions yet again.

Instead, he saw stone.

He frowned, the gears in his hazy mind slowly turning. The air was cooler here; perhaps the camp had found some shade?  Gingerly propping himself up, wincing at the pain it brought, he looked around and found himself in a cave.

His heart sped up uncontrollably and he bolted upright. “No, no, no,” he muttered, choking back a sob. He couldn't handle the claustrophobia on top of everything else, no, please, he couldn't –

“Reed.”

He spun around, breaths ragged now. An armored figure stood before him, a bundle of cloth in one hand. But it held a long, thin sword in the other, and the sword's twin hung from her belt, and that was all Reed cared about.

“Please --”

He was gasping for air now, and there was too little and too much of it all at once. The rock walls were starting to close in as they always did, and they were squeezing the oxygen out of his lungs, please, please, “Please – don't – I --”

Staccato, staccato. “Reed. You're safe. Lie back down.”

The oxygen left his lungs and pushed its way into his guts instead. Reed turned and vomited bile onto the floor.

His vision was spinning, stars dancing in front of his eyes. He tried to prop himself up further, but a swoop of dizziness propelled him backwards, backwards, until he flung himself off the other side of his cot and passed out on the cold, hard, unforgiving stone.

[adsagsona]

open/ Merman AU - Casino’s pet

Jared had been given a new habitat recently. It was his reward for being a ‘nice fish’ as the hotel owner had put it. Jared had been caught a few months ago when he had been wounded by a fisher’s net.  Helpless, they had dragged him on the boat and looked at him a little funnily. But that didn’t last long.

The fishermen knew about these kind of creatures and how much money they could make. Jared had trashed about the whole journey, which had earned him a couple of bruises from the crate he had been transported in and that was it. 

The entire journey in the crate, he had been located in a small cramped tank, where the water soon turned, which made it difficult even for him to breathe. He was relieved when he was brought to his new owner, who had given him a contract to work as a ‘show animal’ for his casino.

Basically Jared had to be present in a large fishtank several hours a day and look pretty. He had to let the people gawk at him and in a while he would have to do a show twice a day, but they hadn’t began training with him yet.

Nearing the closing hour of the casino, Jared wished for nothing more than to go to the habitat which had been promised. Seeing as this tank was open at the top, he could swim to the surface and hang comfortably with his arms over the edge.

“Hey, are you coming to take me back to the hotel?” He asked as a familiar person walked  by the tank.