content: anger as a trauma response, argument, smashing things, emotional whump
Whumpee wasn’t someone who cried very often. In fact, it was nearly impossible to tell when they felt down, or angry, or any sort of negative emotion. It was impossible to tell when they needed a friend to console them.
At first, Caretaker thought that would make their job easier. If Whumpee was never sad, then surely, they weren’t responsible for making them feel better. If Whumpee could take care of themself independently, then that meant less work for them. Right?
Except… as they’d come to learn, those emotions Whumpee was suppressing wouldn’t just go away. No, those feelings left a trail of blood and tears in their wake.
“I’m so fucking tired of this!” Whumpee screamed, and Caretaker ducked out of the way as a vase smashed into the wall right above them. One of the shards cut their face. “I’m tired of feeling like this! I don’t want to be fucking insane all the time! I just want to be normal!”
“Whumpee, calm down—”
“Would you be fucking calm in my place?”
So that was what lurked beneath the stoic exterior. “Let’s just talk about it—”
“You don’t get it! Nobody gets it! Everyone is always like ‘oh, talk about your feelings, talk about your trauma, share the load’, but no one ever actually listens! No one! No one wants to hear about the trauma! No one wants to hear about any of it!”
“Whumpee, if you just calmed down—”
“Leave me alone!” They stormed into their bedroom and slammed the door shut. Caretaker could soon hear them absolutely trashing the room, but when they went to open the door and talk to them, they found it locked.
“Whumpee, please… Let’s talk about it. Whumpee?”
“Go away!”
“I’m willing to talk. I really am. I want to hear what’s bothering you.”
Silence.
“Whumpee?”
Silence.
“We can talk through the door, if that’s more comfortable for you. You don’t have to look at me or anything. But I do want to hear what’s gotten you so worked up. I just want to help.”
Silence.
Caretaker waited for a few minutes before they sighed and retreated into their own room. Maybe they could catch Whumpee in a better mood the next day. But honestly? There was little to no chance of that. Whumpee was just… too closed off. They didn’t trust them. Caretaker had no idea if they’d given them a reason to be like that, or if they were generally distrustful of everyone.
They plopped down on the bed, and soon they could hear Whumpee blasting music from their own room. It was not very nice music. It was just as angry as Whumpee had been. But at least listening to music was a better outlet than smashing all of their things.
Within about two hours, the music stopped, and Caretaker could hear the other door opening. They jumped up from their bed and rushed outside, catching Whumpee as they were pouring themself a glass of water. “Whumpee? Are you feeling a bit better?”
When they turned to look at them, their eyes were bloodshot from crying. “Leave me alone,” they said, less angry now, and more… defeated. “I can manage on my own.”
“Whumpee… We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Are we?”
Ouch. “I… yeah, I thought… never mind. Can you tell me what’s on your mind? You were clearly very upset. I’ve never seen you so upset.”
Whumpee pushed past them and went back to their room. “Just pretend you didn’t see it. I’ll clean up the mess tomorrow.”
Caretaker reached out towards them, wanting to say something that would help, that would fix this, but they only got the door slammed in their face for a second time. They let their hand fall and sighed. “Okay… Well, when you’re ready to talk, I’m here,” they muttered, having a distinct feeling that Whumpee would not appreciate the sentiment.
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“Was it bad that we just started smashing stuff?” / futaba @ akira
Meme Tag -- @madefate
A small sound escapes Akira's mouth at the question, shrug bouncing his shoulders as he watches the other Phantom Thieves going merrily about the activity of smashing stuff. While true, their usual modus operandi is to make as little noise and ruckus as possible, there's something very gratifying about smashing up the pristine room filled with Shido's 'treasures'.
Everything had a gaudy gold veneer, from the statues to the portraits, and everything seemed to be different depictions of him. At least it wasn't him in various stages of undress as they'd seen in Kamoshida's palace, but clearly Shido has a very high opinion of himself. Which is already obvious from the fact that he has a Palace to begin with.
"As long as we don't get caught, I don't think it's bad," he says out loud. He's not sure what smashing the cognitive version of a bunch of cognitive portraits is going to do to Shido's psyche, but chances are that's it's not going to get any worse. And as long as it doesn't compromise their infiltration, Akira figures it's probably okay.
