Have you ever considered a cyborg whumpee with a device implanted in them?
What if cyborg Whumpee was created in a lab, but has since escaped and now lives with Caretaker?
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It was quiet in the house, but for Whumpee, it suddenly exploded into chaos. Every flicker of light was like a stab behind their eyes, the feeling of clothes like blades on their skin, every sound like a gun going off next to their head. It felt like their nerves were on fire, the device in their head that was meant to make them better than humans glitching and running on overdrive, now making everything too much.
Whumpee stumbled, their back hitting the wall before they slid down to the floor, hands over their ears as they squeezed their eyes shut, trying to shut everything out. The humming of machines, the buzz of electricity in the air, the wind blowing outside, the light coming through the window- but it was no use. It was too much, too much, too much
They don't know how long they sat there, fingers clawing at their head as their senses kept being overloaded by that stupid broken device. It could have been minutes, hours, or even days.
When the door opens and Caretaker entered, the sound is so loud it made Whumpee scream and curl up further. Caretaker instantly rushed to their side, trying to touch Whumpee to see what's wrong, but the sensation is too much, like hot coals being pressed into their skin, and Whumpee screamed again.
Caretaker seemed to understand what's happening. “Hey…hey, it’s alright. I’m here,” they murmured softly, their voice low, soothing. "It's the device for your senses, isn't it?"
Whumpee was barely aware of their words, lost in the violent storm of sensations, but they felt the warmth of the caretaker's presence, a grounding weight just on the edge of their awareness. They let their hands fall from their ears, reaching out desperately, their fingers brushing the caretaker's arm as they searched for something real, something that wasn’t pain and sound and light.
“Easy,” Caretaker said softly, moving closer so he could hold onto them. “I know it’s too much. Just breathe with me. We’re going to get through this.”
Slowly, Caretaker reached out, gently pushing Whumpee's head down. Whumpee flinched at the contact but let themselves be guided, exposing a port at the base of their neck. They could feel Caretaker mess around with it, but they focussed on their breathing, of anything else than the sensations still burning through them. It was still too much, and another flash of light made them curl up even tighter, a soft whimper escaping them.
Caretaker shushes them, the sound impossibly loud yet comforting. Caretaker knew what to do, they were also one of the few people who had access to Whumpee's systems like that.
Slowly, mercifully, the sensations began to ebb. The brightness dulled, the cacophony faded, and the raw agony in their nerves settled into a quiet ache. They took a deep, shuddering breath, their grip on their hand loosening as they slumped back, feeling the heaviness of exhaustion settle over them.
"There you are," Caretaker whispered gently. "Better?"
Whumpee nodded as they collapsed against Caretaker, exhausted. They closed their eyes, letting the warmth of Caretaker's presence replace the chaos, the pain. And for the first time since the overload had started, they felt a measure of peace.
