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Living Weapon Whumpee That Doesn't Know What To Do When Caretaker Rescues Them.
Living Weapon Whumpee that doesn't know what to do when Caretaker rescues them.
They only know fighting, and violence, and even sometimes order people around when their handler allows them, what are they supposed to do if Caretaker doesn't need them?
Caretaker is a good person, and they have a lot of security like guards 24/7 and cameras monitoring their house, why would they need Whumpee?
They say they want to help, to make Whumpee get better; but how is Whumpee supposed to be better when they can be useful?
Caretaker doesn't need them. They are safe, and that's a good thing. Then why do they feel so impotent?
If only Caretaker needed them. Or if they lacked guards, then at least Whumpee could be of some use. But no.
They are useless, and when Caretaker sees that, they are going to get rid of Whumpee.
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More Posts from Mousepaw
Put Up Your Dukes
Warnings: kidnapping, torture, physical violence, restraints
Whumper laughed as they circled Whumpee. Laughed as Whumpee raised their fists to fight back. They had been right about grabbing this one. That this one would be entertaining as Whumper tortured them until the end.
“You’re adorable,” Whumper said through their laughter.
Whumpee lunged with a primal scream, their fists coming straight for Whumper’s head. Whumper simply side-stepped Whumpee’s fists.
Whumpee was weak. Days without food or water had left them dizzy. Days of being beaten and tied up had left them shaky. But they couldn’t go down without a fight.
“Let me go,” Whumpee hissed as they gathered their energy to pounce on Whumper once more.
“Why would I do that?” Whumper said as they continued to watch Whumpee. To lure them in within striking distance.
Whumpee lunged again with a growl, but Whumper was prepared this time. They ducked under Whumpee’s fists and punched up into Whumpee’s solar plexus. Whumpee gasped for air as they struggled to breathe. But Whumper didn’t stop.
In one fluid motion, Whumper boxed Whumpee’s ears. Taking advantage of Whumpee’s disorientation, they threw Whumpee down to the ground, kicking Whumpee in the ribs.
Whumpee squealed with pain as they tried to hunch over themself to protect their core. But Whumper was unrelenting. They kicked Whumpee over and over until Whumpee’s cries stopped. Until Whumpee’s breathing was ragged and they were unmoving.
Then, and only then, did Whumper stop. They knelt down and cuffed Whumpee’s bruised wrists. “And that is why I can’t let you go,” they cooed into Whumpee’s ear as they dragged Whumpee’s unconscious body to the chains on the wall. “I’m having too much fun to stop.”
Sluggish Talking
Whumper cleaned their knife and set them down next to a row of other sleek metals. Their eyes scanned the table satisfied with their day’s work.
“Mhmm…” A low whimpering noise alerted them to Whumpee finally arousing from their sleep. Their hands were bound to chains as they sat up against a wall. Their brain had been numb for several days; a side effect of one of their experiments that went a little overboard.
Whumper turned on their stool, it creaked as they examined them struggle to keep their head. “Yes, I know it hurts, it’ll wear off eventually.” Whumper stood and sauntered slow over to them. “It’s just a few more hours and we’ll get you something to eat after, how about it?”
Without letting them finish, they caught the sounds of frustrated incoherent mumbling. Which would usually be another one of Whumpee’s classic comebacks. Their refusal to obey was what got them here, if they hadn’t been so insistent on being difficult then Whumper would’ve never used these tactics.
They knelt down and lifted Whumpee’s chin to get a better look at their hazy eyes. They laughed at the situation, Whumper wasn’t a scientist by any means and acquiring medical products to synthesize feelings of relaxation wasn’t their best trait. They’d have to admit perhaps getting someone else to do it should’ve been the only correct option, but that would be a hassle.
They wiped drool away from Whumpee’s mouth and chuckled deeply when they began to groan. Their brows furrowing only slightly at the action.
“I have it under control, I swear I do.” They moved Whumpee’s hair to the side, “Then we can get back to our usual routine. Just hang on and be good for me, hm?” They smiled with an auspicious thought.
“Mmmm…” Whumpee shook their head; the small movements they could manage spoke volumes. Everything felt light and airy, but their eyelids couldn’t hold up any longer than now. Whatever Whumper used on them was powerful enough to keep them from fighting back and pushing needles or knives for the past week. It made their blood boil, being so pathetic and especially greatly in need of help now was what was really ruining their well-built reputation.
After months of keeping Whumper on their toes with every sly attack and angry glare, it was only natural that Whumpee would cause trouble for their attacker. They had to though, if any signs of weakness were shown, Whumper would only exploit and mock them. They bit their lip and pushed their thoughts aside, if they could, they would punch Whumper right then, but all Whumpee found themselves doing was crying in pain and hoping their words were good enough.
“Huhmm aaa…” They still fought back the drugs in their system to speak and maintain eye contact. A terrible task that only worsened their conditions. They knew they were vulnerable, but without a fight, Whumpee would be defeated.
Whumper tapped their cheek lightly with a sporty grin, “Bit excited to talk to me, huh? Just wait until this is over.” They walked out with Whumpee staring at the shadow of their captor moving out of sight again.
~~~
MASTERLIST
I've heard about this. Never experienced it, surprisingly, but I've heard of it.
Stabbed
I got a bit of evening inspo and decided to act on it. So, here's my first ever attempt at nameless whump
Tagging: @tildeathiwillwrite @ashirisu
Warnings: Stabbed/ stab wound
----
Whumpee could barely process what was going on. Who's hands were pressing on the wound? There was no shape to them, only blocks of pain pushing into their leg. Who was shouting? They all sounded like distant echos, far away from whumpee.
They could feel the vibrations of the scream and the strain it put on their lungs, but they couldn't hear it. It was all hazy, as if a fog had rolled through whumpee's consciousness.
They had no energy to struggle, and yet they tried. It's all they could do. Part of them knew it wouldn't help, but they just kept doing it.
Their vision was a blur, full of sweat and tears. Whumpee could only make out vague shapes. One person pinning their upper body, their hands pressing into Whumpee's wrists, keeping them restrained. Another sat on their ankles holding Whumpee's legs still as they added the pressure. The horrible pressure.
Whumpee just wanted it to stop, so they struggled and struggled until the fog in their mind finally took hold and they felt free.
June of Doom day 6
“you’re doing great” (injection/nightmare/duct tape)
“Don’t worry baby, I’m going to get you out of here…” Caretaker made sure to keep their voice a low, calm whisper. They kneeled before Whumpee, carefully cutting away at the duct tape keeping them bound to a chair in Whumper’s basement.
Whumpee stared at them with wide, panicked eyes. Their eyes were dilated, pupils nearly entirely engulfed in black. It seemed like they were teetering on the edge of delirium, fighting a losing battle against whatever Whumper had given them. It made Caretaker furious, but they didn’t dare show it. Whumper would get what they deserved, but for now Caretaker had to focus on keeping Whumpee comfortable.
Whumpee did not speak as Caretaker worked. Their eyes nervously tracked their each and every moment, body twitching in half realized jolts whenever Caretaker moved to quickly. They flinched whenever Caretaker touched them, though they did not pull away. All Whumpee did was breathe, short and quick and terrified.
Caretaker wasn’t sure they were in any state to understand them. They weren’t sure if Whumpee even recognized them. Caretaker spoke anyway. “You’re doing great. Just a little bit more, and we can go home.”
Aaaand fuck you- it's good, it's accurate, but fuck you /pos
Content warning: ableism
Autistic whumpee things
Whumpee starts off barely verbal. Whumper wants to chat so they punish whumpee until they can spit out lines like "how was your day" "I'm fine how are you"
Whumper figures out that loud noise hurts whumpee, and they now start torture sessions with a harsh clap just to get that first flinch
Alternatively they could use light, touch, or also UNDER STIMULATION depending on whumpee's issues
Whumpee picking up on whumper's routines and analyzing their mood based on their patterns
Autistics tend to be visual thinkers. This means it could be easier for them to figure out the layout of the house based on sounds and where they're at. Escape attempts?
Whumpee being rational despite starting to go insane, making whumper think it's not working. Autistics are information-based thinkers so we often aren't even tuned into our feelings
On that note, whumper getting irritated that they can't provoke strong reactions at times
Whumpee being punished for not understanding something whumper told them to do
Executive dysfunction making whumpee just freeze when they're told to do something, cue punishment
Whumper getting their kicks on how "stupid" whumpee is, seeing how far it goes by testing their verbal comprehension
Changing up routine or forcing whumpee to speak and mask just to watch them meltdown
Using their autistic traits to show how "you could never cope without me, you need me"
"poor social reject, only I can truly understand you"