whumpee who has adjusted since their whump and they aren't doing too bad, considering everything. they have friends who maybe don't even know about anything they've had to go through.
but then an accident causes them to lose their memory, regressing into the time when they were with whumper. they dont remember any of the "new" life they had built up. their old habits terrify their friends/caretaker.
"are you sure i can do this? you know what whumper will do if they find out.."
"are you friends with whumper? please, let me see him, I don't want him to get angry again."
(bonus points if they end up going into detail of what whumper had done, and the friends had no idea about it and are now horrified, on top of having to help whumpee realise that all of this is over now)
(or the good old trope of whumpee thinking caretaker is the new whumper)
You all know and love "whumpee presents themselves to caretaker for a punishment that's not coming" now get ready for "whumpee takes their punishment into their own hands and unintentionally traumatizes caretaker"
A few weeks after rescuing a surprisingly well-adjusted seeming whumpee, caretaker gets a parcel mailed to them. Inside are photos of whumpee being tortured, perhaps some video tapes as well. Whumpee has been watching caretaker unpack- they have a habit of watching caretaker -and caretaker instantly turns to them, expecting them to need reassurance.
Instead, whumpee says: "Huh. That's unusually thoughtful of whumper."
"Thoughtful?"
They nod. "Yeah. They must know you're new to this. Maybe if you look through the pictures and pick out your favourites, you'll finally have some idea of what you want to do to me."
Treat your whumpee like a dog. Collar them, make them sit on the floor, make them crawl on all fours, pin them to the floor by their leash, make the sleep in a dog cage/house, drug them to make them more compliant, make them bark and beg for food and water, give them a command word that whenever it's siad it makes them terrified and read for punishment, or a word that signals that they can go eat. If it's a word for punishment, make it a common word, one that's said commonly on a daily basis. If it's for food, make it a word that's basically never said, a word that isn't used commonly.
"How bad is it?" Whumpee asked cautiously, staring at the plate served to them. An alluring aroma wafting up as they watched caretaker settle down, lifting cutlery as they did.
"The... Food?" Caretaker paused, tilting their head. "Like... You got allergies or something?"
"No." Whumpee cautiously began eating, not wanting to waste the warmth it gave. Besides, not doing so would be rude.
And that had its own consequences.
"Then... The cooking?" Caretaker seemed almost hurt at their own suggestion. "That is... I know it's not gourmet, by any means, but I wanted to believe it was edible at least."
Whumpee shook their head gently. "Food's good." They mumbled. "...Oh, and thank you..."
"I... You're welcome, but..." Caretaker put the knife to rest their chin, their eyes lost in thought. "I'm not sure I follow? How bad is what...?"
Whumpee's brow creased pensively, throat visibly moving as words were looked for.
"Whumper would... Treat me like this before..." Their eyes glazed slightly. "Things got bad."
Caretaker's gaze changed slightly, widened by concern. Fingers gripping under their chin.
"sometimes whumper'd do it for days before..." Whumpee's mouth quivered, their eyes flitting back and forth. "Pretty sure I was down a kidney that time..." There was a quiet chuckle, an arm shielding them from caretaker's view, pretending to tidy their hair.
Caretaker could only drop their jaw. The way it was so casually mentioned. Like losing a set of keys.
They remembered being informed the MRI scans revealed a missing kidney, along with a long list of many other... Discoveries...
When queried, however, caretaker just assumed it was a medical incident whumpee never talked about. Never in their life did they think... They never imagined anyone would...
Whumpee looked at Caretaker with a spark in their eye, a bemused smile. Was it meant to be funny...?
"So," whumpee resumed. "How bad is it?"
Caretaker was still struggling for words. What does one say to that? What can one say to that?
"What you have planned for me, I mean."
Caretaker's blood turned cold. "P-Planned?"
"you've been so kind to me, caretaker. Weeks of wonderful food..." Whumpee's eyes now filled with a quiet acceptance.
"So please, just so I can prepare... How bad is it?"
Oooh, I like this... classic whump reveal. And gosh does Caretaker have a lot to explain and untangle 😅😅 that's quite the backfire. Poor Whumpee, stewing in dread all this time :')
Whumpee wants to be good so deeply, wants to get the pats on the head, the praise, the safety that comes with being good.
But here, they couldn’t figure out what good was.
They’d stay awake all night, cleaning in practiced silence, till the entire apartment was immaculate, but all they got was a worried look and encouragement to sleep, to “rest”.
Why? What benefit did their master get from them sleeping or resting? Sleeping was a necessary delay, they knew that well enough, but resting? They’d never had so little to do that there was time to waste resting.
Of course, it wasn’t up to them, even if they didn’t understand, it was their job to obey. So, here they were. “Resting”.
They even thought they were doing that wrong, with how master kept glancing at them out of the corner of their eyes. Sitting criss cross on the floor, perfectly still. Resting.
“Hey honey?”
(Honey must be the name master had picked for them, though it seemed like they weren’t sure if they wanted to call them Honey or Buddy, but that was okay, they figured out to respond to both.)
“Yes?”
(Master didn’t want to be called master, or sir, or anything, so it made all of their sentences sound choppy and clipped, like a mouth with a missing tooth.)
“How about you come sit over here on the couch?”
Their heart sank. They must have done something wrong if Master wanted them within arms reach. Or they were expected to mess something up, and would need to be corrected often.
Carefully, they stood, and sat on the couch, trying to figure out what it was that they’d done wrong. Were they slouching? They sat extra straight, just in case. Had they been making a face? They made sure their expression was exact, placid and pleasant. What else could it be?
“You can slouch you know, it’s just us here.” Their tone was light, almost playful, but he knew better. He’d learned already, he knew how to win this game. He looked towards them, carefully avoiding eye contact, then looked forward again. Acknowledge, but don’t lapse. It was a test, to see if he’d break the rules without being told to. It had caught him thousands of times before, but not anymore.
But when Master only sighed slightly, it didn’t feel like he’d won.
Did they want him to mess up? Were they looking for a reason to punish him? They truly didn’t need a reason, surely, but…
It was good, right, that they would only punish him if he did wrong, even if they wanted to otherwise? But then, how long before they grew frustrated, and the impending punishment would be so much worse.
All of those thoughts happened in seconds, and boiled down to a single question. Should he slouch?
On one hand, he should, it would give them what they wanted and it would be better than waiting for a worse fate down the road. On the other hand,,, Even the idea of being hit or scolded made his chest tighten up painfully.
Selfishly, he stayed still, heart beating in his throat.
He wanted to be good so bad, he hadn’t figured anyone out yet here and it was going on two weeks. And they seemed so much nicer than the others, he hadn’t be punished even the few times he’d slipped, why now?
“Honey…” their voice was so soft, and so was the gentle hand on his shoulder, but he flinched anyway, “you really can relax, it’s okay.”
His mouth was so dry he almost changed his mind, but he figured one way or another, he’d have to do this eventually.
“Do I have permission?”
At least if he got hit for asking, it would give them what they wanted. He braced for the worst but all that came was-
“Huh?”
“Do I have permission to relax?”
“Of course? Yes, yes, you have permission to relax, please do.” There was something in their voice, almost like relief, but he wasn’t sure. It wasn’t that exactly, and that certainly made no sense anyway.
Whumpee high as fuck on painkillers and just, gushing about how much they liked Caretaker and their new home but it’s littered with comparisons that make Caretaker heart ache.
“Thank you, for the bed, it’s comfy- it’s like, a big-uh, it’s big, and um, warm, and so much better than the floor…” Whumpee gazed at them like they had hung the moon and the stars, voice earnest even as they stumbled a bit on the words.
“No worries,” Caretaker tries not to let their expression shift, “How are you feeling right now?”
“I feel…sleepy. Good sleepy, not bad sleepy,” whumpee wrinkles their nose, as if remembering something disgusting, “Can I go to sleep? I’ll be good, I promise.”
Bad sleepy?
Caretakers stomach turned, but they kept their placid smile. “Yeah, go ahead and get some rest honey, you’re always good.”
Whumpee shakes their head, chuckling slightly. “Only you say that. Everyone else says that I’m not.”
“Don’t listen to them-“ Caretaker stopped themselves from saying what they really thought, which included a lot of profanity, “They don’t know what they’re talking about.”
Whumpee nods earnestly, even as they scoot down deeper into bed. “I won’t, you’re my master now, it only matters what you say.” The matter of fact way they said it made it obvious that those words weren’t their own, but beaten into them.
Caretaker opened their mouth, trying to figure out where to start, but Whumpee continued.
“You’re so nice to me, the nicest. I hope you’re my master forever… I’ll be as good as possible, I promise…” Whumpee suddenly had a catch in their voice, “Do you- If I’m very, very good…would you keep me forever?”
The conditioning needed to be undone, yes, and it would be. But right now, whumpee was gazing up at them with the most hopeful, teary eyes, so high on painkillers that Caretaker doubted they’d remember anyway, and they caved.
Conditioned pet Whumpee turned Carewhumper with good intentions.
Their recovery was hard. They went through so many difficult emotions and processing. There was pressure for them to become better but no clear answers on how. What little stability and predictability they'd had was turned on its head. Suddenly everything was the opposite of what they'd finally learned, and they were scared for so much of it.
Eventually, they succeeded in relearning how to be a functional person and stabilizing their life. But the process that got them there was miserable and so hard.
So they decided they wouldn't make anyone else go through that. They found one or more other pet whumpees and just...took care("care"?) of them as they were, as trained pets. They would never train their own or keep someone against their express will; their capture and conditioning was just as miserable as their deconditioning. But they were going to give them what they had wanted at that stage themself: comfort without retraining. A loving owner. Stable rules and easy obedience. And they genuinely see what they're doing as right by these other whumpee(s), even if it never progresses to deconditioning or reentering society or independence.
Maybe they even think of their own recovery as the work of becoming a person, rather than healing someone who had always really been a person. (and if they still think like this, did they ever really recover?)
Conditioned pet Whumpee happens to be sick exactly when they are rescued from Whumper and the illness masks their conditioning from Caretaker for long enough for whumpee to get it into their head that Caretaker is their new master
Whumpee is too delirious (due to the fever) to notice that the person picking them up and carrying them away during their rescue is Caretaker and not just Whumper moving them somewhere. Of course, if they had known it wasn’t Whumper, they would have freaked out about being taken away from their master.
Whumpee seems overly affectionate/cuddly (just like how Whumper liked) and caretaker just thinks of course they want comfort! They’re sick and tired and they’ve been through a lot!
Caretaker sees that Whumpee has gotten off of their bed in the middle of the night to sleep on the ground? They must have gotten too hot on their bed because of the fever and the ground was cooler.
They won’t eat without being explicitly ordered? Whumpee is so nauseous that they don’t want to eat, but they’re willing to choke down some food for Caretaker’s peace of mind, obviously!
Whumpee is too sick to bathe by themselves, so caretaker helps them, not knowing that Whumper liked to bathe ‘their pet’ too.
Caretaker helps Whumpee out in any way (feeding, brushing hair, carrying them places, etc) not knowing that to Whumpee these are all things their ‘master’ would be doing whether they are sick or not.
And by the time Whumpee is finally better and caretaker starts to notice that all of this is still happening even though Whumpee isn’t sick anymore, they’ve accidentally completely cemented in Whumpee’s mind that Caretaker is just like Whumper. Good luck deconditioning them now!
content: hero villain whump, nonhuman whumpee, mind control, body control, needles, noncon drugging, kidnapping, captivity, restraints, humiliation
Indigo was walking through the empty parking garage, sniffing the air to catch Hunter's scent.
Just 24 hours ago, everything had been quiet. Hunter hadn't shown his face in weeks, and the city was peaceful without her. Indigo didn't really have any heroic duties — they could just wear their human disguise and go to college like every other person their age. But of course, no good villain stayed away for too long. Hunter was back. And he was causing chaos.
"Where are you hiding?" Indigo growled. "You wanted to come out and play. Then play."
Their ears twitched as they locked onto a little noise from behind one of the pillars holding up the roof. It sounded like the cracking of a bone, the popping of a joint. It was quiet, and a normal human wouldn't have been able to hear it — but Indigo wasn't a normal human.
They immediately ran towards the sound. They weren't afraid of Hunter. They just wanted to put an end to this ridiculous cat and mouse game they'd been playing for the past years, and give the citizens some peace. Hunter had to be behind bars.
Indigo thought they saw a shadow moving behind the pillar and they immediately lunged at whatever was casting it; but they landed on thin air. There was… nobody behind the pillar.
They furrowed their brows. Their hearing was excellent, their sight wasn't ordinary either, so what—
They heard a pop, and something whistling through the air. Then they felt a stinging pain in their neck.
"Ow!" They reached up to feel what hit them, and…
And…
Oh, they felt a little woozy.
They grabbed whatever was embedded in their neck, yanking it out to look at it. Tranquilliser.
"Oh no," they breathed. They had to get through this. They couldn't pass out.
They threw the thing on the floor and stomped on it. They turned around to begin combing through the parking garage again, ignoring the way they stumbled.
"Is this what we've stooped down to? Tranquilliser?" they yelled. Their voice echoed. "Come out and fight me like you mean it! We're not kids! If you want to terrorise this town…"
Indigo reached up and pressed the palm of their hand against their forehead. They were seeing double now.
This was bad. They couldn't risk passing out here, alone and vulnerable for Hunter to catch. Especially not with their disguiser on their wrist.
Indigo wasn't human — that much was quite obvious when one looked at their indigo skin, eyes, and hair, their pointed ears, their claws. But a friend of theirs, their only real friend, a friend who knew what they were — or as much of what they were as they themself knew — managed to come up with a gadget that would turn them almost completely human. Their skin, their eyes, their ears, their nails, all normal, passing for a regular young adult. The only thing it didn't change was their rat's nest of an indigo hair, but humans dyed their hair different colours all the time, so who cared? Nobody batted an eye. And that gadget, they always had it with them; wore it on their wrist like a watch. It kind of looked like a fancy watch. If Hunter caught them with that, it would be game over. He would know who their human persona was, and their civil identity would be entirely blown.
So what now? They couldn't just leave. Hunter was at large. She would take hostages, blow up buildings, whatever his insane plan was this time. Indigo couldn't just leave and take a nap.
They heard a pop, and that whistling sound through the air again. Their reflexes were considerably worse now, but they managed to duck out of the way. The needle hit a pillar and fell to the ground with a clinking sound.
"Just come out already!" they yelled. "You already got one in me! You can't be this scared of me!"
They took a step towards where the dart had come from. Then another. Their body felt like lead.
"Hunter," they hissed. "I will put you in jail if it's the last thing I do. So come out and face me."
And she did come out. He stepped out from behind the pillar with a tranquilliser gun in her hand, smiling, his long, jet black hair falling in front of her face. "Hello, Indigo. Feeling a little sleepy?"
"I can deal with you in whatever condition I'm in," they said as confidently as they could muster.
"Oh?" He stretched out her arm and aimed directly at them. "A few more darts wouldn't hurt, then."
"Put down the gun and face me like you're not a coward."
He laughed. "You think this is about cowardice? I simply live by the mantra 'work smarter, not harder'. Your little animal instincts are annoying to deal with, I'm levelling the playing field."
Indigo's knees buckled. They were having serious trouble trying to keep their eyes open.
"Is this what you call 'dealing with me'?" Hunter taunted as he walked closer. Not within lunging distance, but closer.
"I will protect this city," they said, but there was no bite to it anymore. They were so exhausted. The world was spinning, and their brain kept telling them to just close their eyes for a moment. "You have to go through my cold… dead body…"
"One day, I will," Hunter said. "But that day is not today. Today, I'm fine with you just being unconscious." She raised the gun and fired another dart, and they were too tired to get out of the way. It hit them in the chest, immediately draining into their bloodstream. Their heartbeat was slowing.
They reached up and grabbed the dart, yanking it out of their skin. They threw it to the side. "I… I will…" They fell over, landing hard on their face. The concrete was hard and cold, but they didn't care. They had to close their eyes. Just for a moment.
"Stop fighting it," he cooed. Indigo could see her walk closer, within arm's reach, and they tried to raise their arm to grab onto his pants, to do something, anything… But they couldn't. "Go to sleep, Indigo."
They wanted to say something. Their mouth wouldn't move. Just how strong was the tranquilliser?
Their eyes fluttered closed.
They were so sleepy.
They were…
They were…
Gone.
—
Indigo awoke with a horrible pain in their head. They groaned and tried to reach up to rub their temples, but their hand wouldn't move. They tried both hands — neither complied. There was something blocking the movement, something digging into their wrists. Rope. They were tied up.
"Awake?"
They knew that voice. Hunter.
Indigo slowly opened their eyes to see him leaning back against the opposite wall, an unbearable, smug smirk on her face. They quickly scanned the room to find any opening — there was nothing. It was just an empty room with a chair in the middle. A chair they had been tied to.
"I've gotten out of stickier situations before," they spat. "This is nothing."
"Of course. I know that. That brutish strength of yours, paired with an above average mind… You're certainly a hard one to keep in one place for long."
Indigo looked down at their bindings. The rope was sturdy, much too sturdy for them to simply tear apart. If they could somehow get a claw within cutting distance… There was no way Hunter would just stand there and watch them do it.
"But that's why I'm not going to keep you for long," he went on. She pushed himself away from the wall and walked closer, and that was when Indigo saw the syringe in her hand. "In this room, I mean. Oh, I'm going to keep you. But not here."
"What are you even talking about?" They were starting to get nervous. What was in that syringe? Was it more sedatives? Poison?
"I've been working really hard, you know. Long hours in the lab, trying to cook up something that would be suitable for you. I've done this before — the whole hunting a hero thing. It's what I do. You know, as Hunter. Because there were others before you who considered this city their pride and joy, and would've done anything to protect it. But I've won. Every. Single. Time."
"Not this time," they said, tugging on the ropes against their better judgment.
"You've certainly given me a bit of a headache during these past years. You and your overzealous personality. But then, an idea formed in my head. I knew exactly what I wanted to do to you, I just had to figure out how."
"Stop speaking in riddles and just spit it out! What's the crazy plan this time?"
Hunter smiled wide, his green eyes glinting from behind her mask. "I think you'll quite like this one." With that, he stabbed them in the thigh with the syringe, emptying its contents into the muscle.
Indigo squeezed their eyes shut, wincing at the pain. It felt like their thigh had just doubled in size with all the liquid. But when they opened their eyes again, they weren't feeling woozy, and they certainly weren't dead. "What does it do?" they asked.
"You'll see."
"I demand to know what it does!"
"Patience," she said almost gently.
"I'm not patient!" Indigo growled at him.
"Well, that's not my problem. I'll be back in an hour to check on your progress."
"Wait— Are you leaving me here?"
"Sure am." He turned around and started walking away, raising one hand to wave them goodbye. "See you in an hour."
"You can't—" Wait. No. This was good. Humiliating and ridiculous, but good for survival.
"Bye!" Hunter closed the door behind herself, leaving Indigo completely alone.
They took a deep breath. This was fine. They had fallen captive a few times before, and so far, nothing Hunter had thrown at them had been too terrible. Maybe the ropes were stronger this time, but not unbreakable.
They started by trying to slip their hand out of the bonds. With how tight the ropes were, this was not going to work. They tried reaching the ropes with the tips of their fingers so they could cut it with their claws, and that was sort of working… But it would take a while. A good while. But they had an hour, if Hunter's word was to be trusted. So they began the painstaking process of trying to cut through their bindings.
It was taking too long. Indigo was breaking out in a sweat trying to do this, and it wasn't working as well as they'd hoped, and Hunter was going to come back— They had to calm down. They had to just focus on the task at hand. Whatever Hunter had pumped them full of wasn't acting yet, they had time. They just had to concentrate.
Yes.
Yes.
Indigo almost couldn't believe when the rope finally snapped, and they pulled their hand out. They quickly cut the ropes holding their other hand and their legs, then stood up. There was no effect of the drug. They were completely fine. They were going to kick Hunter's—
They heard footsteps from behind the door. Their eyes widened for just a moment in panic before they quickly and quietly sneaked next to it, where they would be hidden if Hunter opened it. Their heart was beating fast in their chest — they didn't want to get hit with another tranquilliser.
The door opened. Hunter walked in. He immediately saw the empty chair and the discarded ropes and slammed the door shut. Indigo jumped out and lunged at her, tackling him to the ground and reeling their hand back to punch her, when Hunter spoke.
"Stop."
One word. A simple command, spoken not in a panicked way, but with the quiet confidence of someone who knew he was going to be listened to. Which was weird. Of course Indigo wasn't going to listen. Hunter was their enemy, their arch nemesis, and they finally had the upper hand.
So then why?
Why did their hand stop mid-air?
Hunter smiled. "I see you're taking it very well," she said, satisfied.
Indigo reeled their hand back a second time, trying to punch him— but their hand wouldn't move. "What's going on?" they asked, alarmed. They moved their other hand to be on Hunter's neck, squeezing in their helpless fury. "Tell me what's going on."
"Get your hands off me," she breathed through the way Indigo was choking him, and like a puppet, they obeyed.
"What's going on?" they demanded again, even more urgent, pushing themself off the ground and taking several steps back. Hunter also stood up, taking his time, dusting herself off casually.
"Indigo, be a darling and go back to the chair. Sit."
And there it was. That irresistible urge to obey him. Their legs carried them right back to the chair against their will, and they sat down, right and proper. It was at this time that a small voice started emerging in the back of their mind as well, whispering the most backwards, ridiculous things.
Isn't this nice? Isn't it nicer when you don't have to think?
It wasn't nice. It was horrifying.
"I believe it's time we had a little chat," Hunter said.
"Tell me what's going on."
"Oh, I will. I will tell you." She hummed. "See, you're quite headstrong. And personally? I don't like that. Some people do — I'm sure you have friends and such, in your civil life. Speaking of, I took your watch. Interesting little thing. I couldn't figure out how to work it, though, you'll have to show me later."
Indigo looked down at their arm, and sure enough, their little disguiser was gone. "Give it back!" they cried.
"Of course, I will. Otherwise how would you show me? Don't be dumb, now."
Tears of helplessness and humiliation were pricking Indigo's eyes. They couldn't get up out of the stupid chair, their watch was gone, and Hunter was speaking to them like they were some idiot child. "What is going on?"
"Ah, yes. About you being headstrong. See, I hate it. It's annoying. If there's one thing I hate more than a hero, it's a headstrong one. Absolutely insufferable."
"Can you get to the point? Why can't I move from here?"
"So I thought long and hard about how to break your spirit. That childish, overzealous, ambitious spirit that was just constantly there to oppose me at every turn. I could barely take a hostage, and you would be there to rescue them. So. Miserably. Annoying."
Indigo swallowed. "Break my spirit?"
"And I came up with the perfect idea! Don't move, now." He walked up to them and took them by the chin, tilting their head up so they were looking into her eyes. They couldn't move a muscle. "I thought, 'I just need to find a way to make them completely and utterly dependent on me.' Subservient. Obedient. Good."
"What have you done?" they whispered.
Hunter grinned and shoved their face away. "I spent hours in my lab, trying to come up with something that would achieve this. But I needed material — a strand of your hair here, shards of your claws there… And eventually, after enough diligent work, I came up with something. Something unique. Something quite personal. And here were are today, witnessing the miracle that is my newest drug. And the best part? Now that I have you, I can continue collecting even more material for further dosages."
Indigo felt the world close in on them. Subservient? Obedient? Them? To Hunter? It couldn't be. It just couldn't be. But the reality was, they were sitting in a stupid chair because Hunter had told them to, completely immobile because he had simply told them not to move. Hunter wanted to break their spirit, and it was already working, not exactly ten minutes into the drug taking effect.
No. They couldn't succumb to this. There had to be a way out, and they had to keep a cool head to figure it out.
"You must be thinking of loopholes right now," Hunter went on. "Let me make it easy for you: there are none."
"You don't know that."
"I do know that. I made the concoction. If anyone knows, it's me."
"You've never used it."
"Mmm, partially true."
Indigo furrowed their brows. "What does that—"
"Well, this is no time to be sitting in an empty room!" She clasped his hands together. "Get up, dearest! Let's go check out that fancy watch you always have on."
Indigo's body moved on its own. They walked out of the room after Hunter, and while there wasn't a single moment they weren't struggling against the drug, it did not matter. They followed him like a shadow, like a lost puppy. When she came to a stop, they also did.
"Alright." Hunter grabbed the disguiser and strapped it onto their wrist. "Show me how it works."
Won't it be nice? Won't it be nice to share the secret with more than one person? Won't it be a burden off your shoulders? Share the secret. Show her your human self.
Indigo tried to block out the voice. It wasn't their internal monologue, it couldn't have been. It was something foreign, something alien.
Despite that, their hand moved against their will. They entered the code and pressed the button to start the transformation; their skin changed colour head to toe, their claws receded, their eyes went from a dark indigo to a dark brown. They stood there, in their human costume, staring their arch nemesis in the face. He took their identity from them. She now knew who they were outside of hero duty. The shame of it burned in their chest and in their face. They were a failed hero.
"Oh," Hunter said. "So it's you. The fake you. Of course, living a life with indigo skin is a no-go. So you pretend. You play-act being human."
"Stop," they said quietly.
"Is it nice? To feel like you belong here? You clearly don't. But is it nice to pretend?"
"Stop!"
Hunter smiled. "Oh, Indigo. Or should I call you your other name? Your human name? Do you want to tell me that as well?"
Indigo blinked, and they could feel tears trickling down their cheeks. "No," they breathed.
"What was that?"
"I won't tell you."
"There it is. You're headstrong. Stubborn. And I. Don't. Like it." Hunter walked up to them and grabbed them by the face. "If you don't want to tell me your name, you'll ask me nicely to drop it."
"Through my corpse," they spat.
"I just have to say the word, and your full identity lands in my lap. You know that."
Share the secret. Share it. Don't you want to share it?
Indigo closed their eyes and took a breath. "I don't—"
"Ah! Careful. Careful with your words, Indigo. Remember what I said: Subservient. Obedient. Good."
Could this get more mortifying?
Indigo couldn't get the words out. A simple 'please' might've done it, but they didn't know, they couldn't, because they couldn't bring themself to say it. But their identity was on the line. Hunter had already seen their face, if he had a name to go with it, it would mean the end of them being able to stay in this city.
"I can't tell you my name," they said.
"Can't? That's not good enough," she said in a sing-song voice. "Indigo, tell me your—"
"Please!"
Hunter stopped. His grin widened. "Please what?"
"Please, don't make me tell you my name. I can't. Please, I can't."
Subservient. Obedient. Good.
They squeezed their eyes shut, trying to tune it out. "Please. Let me have my name. I've already given up my face."
"Mhm. That's true. Open your eyes and look at me."
They did, helplessly.
"You get to keep your name. We'll work on the begging, but for now, it's pretty good. You'll get much better at it, don't worry."
Beg. Beg. Beg. Get on your knees and beg.
"I can't listen to this!" Indigo cried, pressing both hands against their ears. "Make it stop!"
"Make what stop?"
"The voice! The voice in my head!"
"The voice?"
"You said you tested this! You have to have known about the voice! The— The— The stupid voice in my head, whispering and—"
"Oh, there's an audible voice to it?" Hunter asked, seemingly delighted. "What is it saying?"
Tell him. She has a right to know. He has a right to all your thoughts — and this is part of it. These are your thoughts. Yours alone.
Indigo let out an inarticulate scream. "Just make it stop!"
"We'll work on this," she said with a laugh, patting them on the head. "I'm going to make you much more bearable."
Sooo.... I wanna make a whump event. I know I only have (checks notes) 35 followers but it'd be so cool to just, have a whump event anyways. And I'm gonna participate in the event, so hopefully it'll help with my reintroduction of Katya!
Unlike other events where there's a set prompt per day, and you must post one thing per day, this event will be more casual.
The event goal is to write 10 little things, each from my whump wheel. The deadline for completion is my birthday- January 12.
Use the hashtag #leaderwhumpwheel for the challenge so I can see your writing. Also I'd love to be tagged in anything, but this is optional! However if you tag me there's a higher chance of me reblogging it :D
RULES
1. Absolutely no AI. I'd rather you not be anywhere near me if you support or use AI, in fact.
2. Each writing should be at least 100 words. There is no upper limit.
3. NSFW, gore, and sensitive subjects are allowed. Just make sure to tag everything properly.
4. You can use the whump wheel anytime, including after this event has ended. But it won't count towards the event unless it's posted before January 12.
5. You can post multiple things in a day, or skip days. As long as 10 things are entered before January 12, you're a completionist!
Mind control, except it isn't so much "control" as it is persuasion. Mind control powers but it feels more like suggestions from your own thoughts. A strong feeling that you want this or need to do that, but if you focus a little too hard on the thoughts they start to seem wobbly around the edges. Almost like they aren't your own (probably because they aren't your own.) Someone telepathically beaming their own wishes to your head in your own internal monologue's voice.
just the psychology of it is so fascinating to me.
the way you start flinching even when its off, the fear of opening your mouth, the discomfort of the prongs and perhaps feeling those when its not even on, and the way it psychologically doesn't even really work.
baratheonpilled
jacobvanloon
theartofmadeline
janainaart
germansingergirl
