EEEEEE I Would Love To Make A Request!!!

EEEEEE I would love to make a request!!!

How about a Whumper that sees Whumpee as this fragile little thing that needs to be secured somewhere safe? Dehumanizing them by seeing them as some precious doll rather than a person with choices and freedom.

-the 5 croissant anon

✨️🥐🥐🥐🥐🥐✨️

Happy to answer this for you, Anon! I'm getting gilded cage type vibes :D

Please enjoy!

Warnings: captivity, dehumanization, drugging, cage, gilded cage

"You are such a tiny, lovely, little thing," Whumper cooed as they entered Whumpee's room. Whumper had done everything they could to secure the room such that Whumpee couldn't fall and hurt themself. Couldn't find something to hurt themself with. And couldn't get out because they might get hurt.

"Let me out of here," Whumpee said from the bed. It was all they could manage. Whumper had drugged them hours ago so they stay in bed. Whumper didn't need to restrain them to keep them from trying to escape.

But still, they wanted out.

"You can't leave. This is your home! I'm going to take excellent care of you," Whumper said with a smile. They held up an antique brush. "You are the most beautiful doll I've had yet. And your hair is so lovely."

Whumpee wanted to say something. Wanted to shout and try to hurt Whumper. But they simply didn't have the energy. Whatever drugs Whumper had injected them with were strong. "'m not a doll."

Whumper chuckled. "But of course you are, precious! And the best one in my collection might I add." Whumper sat on the edge of the bed, pushing Whumpee onto their side. Whumper ran their fingers through Whumpee's tangled hair, yanking hard.

"OW!" Whumpee shouted.

"And this is exactly why I need to brush your hair! Dolls' hair gets so easily tangled. I'm going to brush it, curl it, and tie it back. You'll be so pretty."

Whumpee groaned. They hated every moment of this.

"And then after that we can put you in the new outfit I bought. Won't that be nice?"

Whumpee closed their eyes. They didn't want to see Whumper's sick joy. Didn't want to see Whumper brush their hair and dress them. And most of all, Whumpee didn't want Whumper to see them cry.

When whumper reaches out to touch a bound and gagged whumpee’s face but they flinch away with a small, muffled sound.

👍❤️

Crunch

This little drabble is brought to you by the request of the lovely @lurkingwhump

Warnings: attempted kidnapping, torture, restraints, broken bones, blood, rescue, hospital, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hurt/comfort, caretaker and whumpee

Whumpee froze as they heard the sound of approaching footsteps. They whirled around, ready for a fight. "You're so predictable," they said as they tensed.

"And yet you're still here alone. If I'm so predictable, why would you leave yourself vulnerable like this, hmmm?" Whumper sneered as they charged forward.

Whumpee was ready for Whumper. They lashed out at Whumper, but Whumper was faster. Whumpee cried out as Whumper punched them twice in the ribs, hard. Whumpee leaned over to protect their middle, and Whumper used that opportunity to punch their nose.

Whumpee's head rocked back and they stumbled as they felt the bone crunch beneath Whumper's fist. "Fuck you," Whumpee hissed through the pain. They just needed to hold out until Caretaker got here. The truth was they weren't trying to be alone, but Caretaker had gotten delayed.

Whumper was relentless as they grabbed Whumpee's wrists and pinned them behind Whumpee's back. "No thanks," Whumper said as they twisted Whumpee's arm until Whumpee cried out. Whumpee grunted as Whumper kicked the back of their knees, forcing Whumpee to the ground.

Whumper quickly pinned Whumpee and began to cuff Whumpee's wrists. Whumpee knew that if Whumper got them to the car, Caretaker would never find them. Whumpee did the only thing they could think of: they threw their head back with all the force they could muster. Whumpee smirked as they heard Whumper's nose crunch beneath their head.

"You've really done it now," Whumper growled as they released their grip on Whumpee's cuffed arms.

Whumpee opened their mouth to reply, but Whumper silenced them with a kick to the ribs. Whumpee's ribs were already painfully bruised, but Whumper kicked with everything they had. Whumpee screamed as they felt the bone crunch.

Whumper didn't stop. "You. Are. Useless. Piece. Of. Shit. I'll. Teach. You." Each angry word was punctuated by a kick.

Whumpee was too breathless to scream. They could only groan. They couldn't get enough air to breathe properly. This wasn't good. Whumper didn't need to get them to the car. Caretaker was going to be too late.

Whumper stopped kicking. Whumpee would have been relieved if they could get enough air. They coughed, choking as blood spilled from their lips.

"Looks like I've done what I wanted to do here," Whumper snickered.

Whumpee couldn't breathe. Couldn't breathe deeply. And they couldn't clear the blood from the back of their throat. This was not good. Caretaker was going to be too late.

"Whumpee!" Caretaker called.

Whumpee couldn't even breathe enough to moan any longer. It was too late for them. Their heart twinged with sadness as they realized Caretaker was going to hold them as they died. They weren't sad to go in Caretaker's arms, but they were sad that Caretaker was going to find them like this.

"OH NO!" Caretaker dropped to their knees beside Whumpee. They pulled Whumpee to them. "No. NO. NONONONONONO!"

Whumpee flopped limply in Caretaker's arms. They couldn't breathe. They were drowning. Everything was on fire. Their world narrowed to Caretaker's face, only inches from their own. Their mouth opened and closed as they gasped for air.

"Please, please, Whumpee. Please. Just hold on. I'm getting you help, hold on, please!"

Whumpee was barely aware as Caretaker lifted them. Barely breathing as Caretaker carefully deposited them in the back of the car. And as their eyes fluttered closed, breath going out in a shallow sigh, they realized dying in Caretaker's car wasn't so terrible after all.

***

"That was so incredibly reckless, Whumpee. You can't ever EVER do that again," Caretaker said a week later as they sat next to Whumpee's hospital bed.

"I know," Whumpee wheezed. They were alive. They were alive and healing. Caretaker had made it in time, but only just.

"I mean it. I can't ever go through that again, Whumpee. You're not allowed to die."

Whumpee reached for Caretaker's hand, hissing with pain as it pulled on their still broken ribs. "I'm sorry."

Caretaker bridged the gap and grabbed Whumpee's fingers. "I'm really glad you're still alive, love."

"Me, too. Me, too."

The long awaited pt2 to the pneumonia/intubation Whump post (this one)...

Caretaker's glad Whumpee's so out of it from all the meds they're on. If they were more aware, they'd likely be terrified.

After all, the equipment that the doctors are pulling over on carts, laying out on the sheets, is enough to make Caretaker feel nauseous- they keep eyeing the metal device the doctor checks over, the one that muted whispers have denoted as the 'laryngoscope'.

They sit beside Whumpee's bed (they're allowed to for the time being, until Whumpee's actually asleep and the real procedure has to begin), holding the hand that hasn't been invaded by a cannula site. A nurse is positioned at Whumpee's other side already pumping them full of drugs that have Whumpee drifting, eyes open but barely there. Caretaker strokes their hair, giving them a wobbly smile as yet another dose of something or other is pushed into Whumpee's cannula.

"I'm right here, whumpee. I'm right here with you, sweetheart. Just try to relax."

The latter message is more for themselves than Whumpee, if they're honest. They're the one with a racing heartbeat- Whumpee's is slower now, as indicated by the dull beep-beep of the monitor they're hooked up to. Their breaths are slower too, so shallow that if they weren't already due to be intubated, Caretaker would be slamming on the emergency button.

"Propofol's going in now." One of the doctors says. Caretaker knows enough to understand that this means sleep, for Whumpee, is imminent.

Sure enough, within seconds of the syringe's plunger being pushed down, a glaze enters Whumpee's eyes, the lids becoming heavy. They open their mouth, tongue darting out to wet chapped lips for a moment as if they want to speak, but Caretaker, unshed tears in their eyes, shushes them gently.

"Hey, just sleep now, alright? Everyone's looking after you. Sweet dreams, Whumpee. Night night."

Whumpee's glassy gaze fixes on Caretaker's, narrowing and narrowing as their eyes drift closer to being closed until...

Out.

Caretaker leans forward, lower lip trembling slightly, and kisses Whumpee on the forehead, just as the doctor steps up behind them.

"Alright, we're gonna get started now. it's probably easier for you to wait outside and-"

"No." Caretaker interjects, tears nearly spilling over. "Sorry, no, I- I need to be here. I won't... I won't get in your way, I promise, I just- I need to be here for them."

And so they remain. They remain when the doctors place the mask over Whumpee's face, murmuring to each other about sats and correct timings. They remain when the principle anaesthesiologist brushes a fingertip below Whumpee's eyelashes, checking for movement and finding none. They remain when the same anesthesiologist stands behind Whumpee's head, removes the mask and tilts Whumpee's chin towards them, gently pulling open their mouth and sliding the laryngoscope in.

The blade slips into place too easily, Caretaker thinks. there's too little resistance. Whumpee should be gagging, thrashing about, screaming for help, but instead they lay unconscious and unmoving as it's driven deep into their throat, pushing their tongue out of the way to give the doctors a clear view of their vocal cords.

"Tube." the anesthesiologist says tersely. That long snaking tube, already lubricated, is placed atop a gloved palm.

Caretaker is tempted to look away as it's inserted, but their eyes are fixed. They watch as it's threaded past the laryngoscope, through the opening of the vocal cords that only the doctor can see. They watch as it slots fully into place and the anesthesiologist adjusts it, leaving it to rest against Whumpee's lower lip for only a moment before the cuff is inflated and the ventilator is hooked up to it instead.

And as the circuit is completed, Caretaker would think Whumpee dead- their eyes are closed, everything is so still, and whenever the tube needs a slight adjustment, they're floppy beneath the touch of the adjuster. Only when Caretaker looks closer do they see the continual, regular fogging of the tube with each assisted breath Whumpee takes- a sign that they're living, at least.

The anesthesiologist glances over at the screen, which to Caretaker looks merely like a smattering of numbers and wave forms.

"We've got N tidal CO2. Everything's connected. Secure the tube and continue to monitor."

With that, they step away, their primary task complete, and a nurse steps in instead- already equipped with an ET tube holder. Caretaker watches them gently press one of the sticky pads against Whumpee's cheek, then moving to the other cheek to apply the other pad. Between them, the tube is secured in place, and at last Whumpee is... Whumpee is...

Caretaker doesn't even realise they've moved to the bedside until they shakily lower themselves into the seat there, listening to the wooshing of the ventilator and the beeping of so many monitors.

Whumpee is... sick. really sick.

They've known it for a long time, of course, but seeing Whumpee intubated, sedated in an intensive care unit, their cheeks pale, sweat beading on their brow... it hammers reality home even further.

Home.

Whumpee isn't going to be going home for a long while yet.

Caretaker has finally found Whumpee, but they're in a bad state. There is no time to take care of anything right now, and they have to move quietly to avoid being detected.

The whispered "can you walk?" and "lean on me" as Whumpee tries their best to be helpful, and Caretaker half-dragging them through the dark hallways. Whumpees injuries hurt them as they move, and they can't keep the sounds of pain in.

They hear someone coming, and Caretaker quickly pulls them to the side, hiding in a small closet. Whumpee squeezes their eyes closed as they fight the pain of the sudden movement, and Caretaker pushes their hand over Whumpees mouth, apologetic, but needing them to be quiet.

Whumpee leaning forward and dropping their head on Caretakers shoulder as they muffle their groans in their jacket.

Bonus points if Whumpee is usually stoic or closed-off, and Caretaker's heart breaking to see them like this.

I would like to highlight this chat response to “Remember Them” cutting out in the livestream