Whump Dump

whumpee has done it again. time and time, history only repeats itself, and whumpee only hurts those around them, they cause them to go, to leave forever and never come back. they drive them away, they hurt them more than any physical threat could.

whumpee wants to cry, but they can't stay here and continue being a thorn in caretaker's side. they don't deserve to feel upset over something that was their own fault. they have to get out before they ruin caretaker inevitably. it will happen. it will happen, and this is the only way to save caretaker from them, whumpee thought, as they packed their measly belongings in a duffle bag.

caretaker did not deserve to be repaid in pain for their kindness. and after what whumpee said, they definitely wouldn't want them here. whumpee was nothing more than a freeloader, only inconveniencing everyone around them just like they always did.

whumper always saw through their acts— attempts at manipulation— dealt with them accordingly. but now, now— whumper wasn't here to correct them. punish them for it.

whumpee looked longingly at the room, of which the bed was theirs, the closet was full of their own clothes, the bookshelf was full of books they chose. this place was full of love, it felt like home, and in weaker moments, they had wished that it would stay so, forever. ofcourse, though, all good things are brought to an end.

the other person is immediately concerned about their short term memory, like, "no?? you fell asleep as soon as you hit the mattress. you don't remember?"

and whumpee is like "no, i mean after that."

"you mean... while you were asleep?"

for whumper, sleep was always an invitation. now, whumpee suddenly remembers that they are allowed to be in charge of what happens to their body all the time.

the automatic assumption that it would've been logical and foreseeable that the person they fell asleep with would've sexually abused them while they were sleeping, god. that's so... it speaks to such an extensive objectification that they've experienced, such a prolonged stretch of repeated instances of abuse,

and the like. the initial offence from the other person, like what sort of a person do you think i am? you thought i'd do something like that to you? and then you slept beside me anyway?

YES. YES YES YES. oh this is one of my favourite things - when an abuser calls a victim on the threat to tell someone, who weaponizes the fear of judgment and blame and the immense shame that whumpee already feels. like, seeing that shame, that humiliation, and amplifying it - do you really want people to know what you did?

and characterizing it like putting a fucking porno in the mind of anyone they tell... hough.

now, they can't cry. physical blows hurt, but they prefer those to attending a funeral. to being yelled at. to being called emotionless, heartless, mean.

no matter how much they hurt on the inside, like a bruise with a weight pressed upon it— they can't cry. their tears were drained out of them as they were slapped for tearing up— and consequently causing tears to slip down their face. clamping their hands on their mouth to prevent the sobs from slipping out.

and it hurts. it hurts, but they can't even cry— so does it really? they think to themself. maybe it doesn't hurt. maybe they lied.

You got it, boss!🫡👍

So, wolf!reader isnt acclimating to the team well, in soaps opinion. Ur constantly tense, eyes darting around any room you enter. Ur ears are never pinned back, but they are so still in a neutral position on Ur head that its obviously a forced facade of calm. You just seem....scared. scared, definitely. But of what soap has no idea.

Hes cant help you, everytime he tries to you seem to withdraw further. Hes tries to do anything he can think of, barking and snuffling and play-fighting, but nothing works. The others try too. Gaz gives you treats all the time, though you never seem to eat them. Ghost gives you awkward head pats and warm praise, but it just makes ur tail tuck. Price tries to talk to you, but anytime he enters a room ur already out the other exit. You seem to dislike him the most.

It all comes to a head when you take a bad fall during training and get a nasty cut on ur back. Price tries to send u to medical, but you outright refuse. He cant just let you fucking bleed without at least getting someone to look, though. So he tells you to either go to medical or choose on of the guys to check it.

...you choose gaz. Hes about your body weight, you feel decently confident in being able to fight him off. Either way, he insists on going to ur den bc it will be the most calming place for an obviously stressed wolf. Gaz expects a small den, sure, but he doesnt expect to see the mattress intended for the den completely barren. Instead you have a small, mangy pile of fabric in the far corner of the room, sandwiched between the wall and where you pushed the dresser out.

He doesnt say anything, just let's you lead him to the empty mattress. He talks you through what he plans to do before starting, then warns you before each action. Ur tense and jumpy, ears pinned flat and tail tucked openly. You dont try to hide ur discomfort, though you nod when gaz asks if he can continue. Still, you jolt and whine when scissors press against ur back, cutting open the shirt. Gaz has to hold his breath for a moment at what he sees.

"Thank you for everything."

"Why does it sound like you're saying goodbye?"

"Nobody knows I'm here."

"And if they did know, they wouldn't care."

"If...if they did know, they wouldn't care."

"Nobody cares about you, Knox."

"..."

"Say it. Nobody gives a fuck about you."

"N-nobody gives a f-fuck about me..."

Simms smiled brightly.

"Except me, of course. "

"...except you..."

And the realisation feels... dull.

They think they should probably be panicking. Or at the very least upset. But they're just tired. In hindsight, it feels so inevitable. They're not sure why they ever bothered struggling.

In some cases, this makes the character angry. Makes them push back against the desire to give in, makes them fight harder than ever, because if there's no way out why not stand your ground and give it your all? So what if they're tired, so what if there's no point to going on- they're going to anyway.

for whumpee, touch is pain, touch is violence, touch is inherently sexual and will lead to a nonconsensual encounter. whumpee is conditioned to equate their self-worth to whatever sexual acts they can or will perform.

even if caretaker does not initiate or show interest in sexual contact, it’s the one thing that whumpee is still able to offer to others. whumpee’s hands might tremor and their voice might falter, but their primary function is still intact.

they can be useful to caretaker, they will be useful to caretaker. it’s not a matter of if but when.

for some time, whumpee lies in wait, expecting that caretaker will trail their hands lower and reach to remove their shirt, but they don’t.

instead they rub whumpee’s back and murmur soft, reassurances in their ear, that they are safe, that they no longer have to answer to whumper, that they deserve kindness.